


LOVE WILL GUIDE US HOME

by dancermk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 19 years later, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Drama, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Rimming, Second Chances, Sex Toys, Smut, Terry is dead, They are in their 30s, True Love, canon divergent from 6x1, ian househusband, making amends, mention of a suicide unknown character, mickey business owner, they commence fic married to other men, working through old trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 83,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancermk/pseuds/dancermk
Summary: THIS FIC IS NOW COMPLETE!Set 19 years after season 6, episode 1.  (Canon divergent)This is a getting back together fic.Ian hasn't seen Mickey since that last time he visited him in prison. As the years passed by he came to think of Mickey more and more, the man never far from his thoughts, as he battled the regret of losing his one true love.Will an unexpected turn of of events change everything?EXTRACT:Mickey takes a step back, and Ian knows he’s about to run.  How many times had he seen that look in Mickey’s eyes when they were boys?  Too many to count. But Ian so desperately doesn’t want him to run.  He would chase Mickey a thousand times over a thousand lifetimes if it meant he could have him back. “Mickey,” he says softly, taking a tentative step forward and reaching out to him.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/OMC, Mickey Milkovich/OMC
Comments: 738
Kudos: 492





	1. When fate knocks at your door

**Author's Note:**

> * This fic is about what what happens to us after we lose a true love - how it affects us emotionally as well as the choices we make. It will have angst and explore the grey areas of life, love and morality. When writing this my intention is to create something meaningful and realistic - I won't be treating the subject matter lightly! As always, this fic is Gallavich endgame.  
> * I know people worry about reading about our boys with other people. There will be MINIMAL sexual content with their respective husbands - it will be brief and NOT explicit - but it will be necessary to understand where each of them are emotionally and also to drive the story forward. (There will be explicit sex between our boys at some point in the story.)  
> * The start of this first chapter is a little depressing (and Ian commences this story in a difficult time in his life - both resentful and bitter) but it moves quickly and we will be into the action before the chapter concludes.
> 
> ** For anyone new to my fics... I change POV from Ian to Mickey - when you see ***** that means a POV change has occurred. If you see * it means we have moved forward in time but NOT changed POV's. There are FLASHBACKS in this fic (2nd chapter onwards) - and they are in italics and have ~~~~~~ before and after to separate them from the current timeline.

****

**2034**

Ian spends a lot of time wondering how he ended up here. In this life. On paper it looks fucking perfect—a loving husband of sixteen years, a beautiful fourteen-year-old daughter, a five-bedroom house with a pool, two nice cars, annual overseas holidays, you get the picture. He has everything, but it feels like nothing. When did he go from Southside trash that appreciated heating in winter to a Northside prick who complained at five-star restaurants? 

From where he’s sitting in his car, he can see the football field; his daughter Lucinda finishing up her cheerleading practise. She’s the princess, the prom queen, and there’s a small part of him, hidden deep inside, that is offended by her. Or is that ashamed? Who fucking knows, either way he must be to blame. If he’s being honest, she’s a spoilt brat. Product of a life too easy. She’s about to turn fifteen and Brad has already bought her a brand new BMW for her birthday. Once she has her license, it will be goodbye Daddy. He won’t be needed anymore. Fuck, he wasn’t needed now except for chauffeuring her and her friends around. 

It’s easy to understand why some women didn’t have any interest in staying at home and raising kids. Ian is a raving feminist at this point. It can be a thankless task. True, he loved it the first five years; the time when your child thinks you are the sun, moon and stars. Cute chubby fingers gripping onto your hand for dear life, sloppy kisses and ‘I wuv you Daddy’. But then they go to school and your life becomes the most mundane routine. Cleaning the house, shopping, school runs, activities, playdates, and before you know it, they are a teenager judging you for every little thing they know absolutely fuck all about. 

A call comes through the Bluetooth and he presses the answer button on the console.

“Hey sweetheart, you on your way home yet?” Brad asks, sweet as pie.

“Just waiting for Lucinda to finish cheer practice.”

“Could you pick up my dry cleaning on the way home? I think it was ready last Friday.”

Yeah, it _was_ ready last Friday. Like he gives a fuck. Why couldn’t Brad pick up his own dry cleaning? Oh yeah, that’s right, cos he’s too busy being a hot shot lawyer. 

“Yeah sure thing babe,” he says, hiding his anger, “See you at home.” He hangs up without waiting for a reply. Maybe _he’s_ the prick? Maybe he needs to get his meds adjusted? Maybe he couldn’t blame it on his mental health anymore? _Mickey_. The man’s name flitters into his thoughts. Again. Every day.

Lucinda opens the passenger door and jolts him back into the present. 

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey pumpkin. How was your practice?”

“Fine. What do you care?” Lucinda says, rolling her eyes.

And she’s off. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes for a second. “Just interested Lu. Pops needs me to pick up the dry cleaning on the way home.”

“Come on, Dad. I have homework to do.”

“It will only take five minutes. Stop complaining, you sound like an ungrateful bitch.”

“Jesus Dad, why don’t you get a fucking job or something and stop acting like a bored housewife?”

“Watch your language,” he warns, glaring at her.

The drive to the dry-cleaners and then home is silent. He hates what she said because it’s true—he is a bored housewife. He wants a job, but every time he’s brought it up with Brad over the last three years he’s been shot down in flames. All the objections Brad has given come flooding back…

_‘You’ll have to re-train if you want to be an EMT again.’_

_‘You’ve been out of the workforce too long, no one will hire you.’_

_‘Who will run the house and get Lucinda to all her activities?’_

_‘It will put too much strain on your mental health, and we can’t have that.’_

Once they arrive home, Lucinda escapes to her bedroom to do her homework, and he walks into the kitchen to get dinner started. He leans against the sink and stares out the window into their backyard. There are perfectly manicured gardens, an outdoor setting for eight and a large BBQ. The pool is beyond that, light reflecting off the crystal blue water. 

A tear rolls down his cheek. Only one. He’s pretty much cried himself out over the last five years. Regret and resentment will do that to you. Wiping away the tear, he heads over to the fridge to figure out what he’s going to cook. Mickey’s smiling face dances through his thoughts and he wonders what he’s doing right now. Where is he? How long has he been out of prison? Fuck, what if he didn’t make it out of prison? No, he’s not going down that path. Has he found some happiness? He hopes so. Mickey deserved better.

*

After dinner Lucinda heads back up to her room and he and Brad settle in front of the TV. They watch some Netflix show, but he can’t concentrate. He feels like he’s reached breaking point, nervous and agitated all the time. Life can’t go on this way, but he has no idea how to change it, no idea what action he should take—he just knows he can’t keep doing this. He considers going off his meds and then hates himself for even thinking it.

“Brad,” he says, and waits to see if his husband will look at him. He doesn’t. “Brad, I’m going to look into updating my qualifications so I can return to being an EMT.”

Without even taking his eyes off the screen Brad replies, “Babe we talked about this already. You need to be home to run the house and look after Lu.” Brad follows this up with a condescending pat on Ian’s thigh before continuing, “I have to get a couple of hours work done before bed. I’ll see you up there.” Brad pecks him on the cheek, gets up and heads toward the study. Ian thinks he should explode, scream and cry—anything to get Brad to understand he’s dying inside—but he doesn’t because he’s too fucking tired to be bothered.

“Oh sweetheart, I almost forgot,” Brad says, turning around at the last minute. “I hired a company to start the bathroom renovation. The guy is coming tomorrow at 9am to measure and finalise the quote. I’ve already told him what we want, but you can handle it from now on. It’ll give you something to occupy yourself with.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, already considering his plans for the evening. He can go to bed soon and try to fall asleep before Brad gets there or he can stay up late until he’s sure Brad is asleep. They haven’t had sex in about a month, but Brad will become insistent soon. It’s been going in cycles like this for a few years—Ian will avoid sex for as long as possible, usually four to six weeks, and then Brad will become demanding for a few weeks and Ian will perform his husbandly duties. He remembers when he had a sex drive, but it seems to have disappeared along with his personality, his happiness, and his interest in life.

*

The next morning Ian drops Lucinda at school and then heads home for the reno company meeting at 9am. He really can’t be fucked, but he’s decided that whatever Brad had asked for he’s going to do the total opposite just because he can. He’s a petty bitch. Brad has left some details on the kitchen bench, including the owner’s business card. The company is called ‘MM Makeovers’ and Brad has asked for - among other things - a black and gold colour scheme and a rain showerhead. Ian screws his face up at the black and gold theme—sounds fucking cheap and sleazy to him—and starts thinking about what he might like instead.

Apparently, the owner of the company is coming - a Mickey Mason - and he feels like it’s a fucking kick in the teeth he doesn’t need right now. He hasn’t run into too many Mickey’s over the years, but when he does it never fails to unnerve him. Noting the company is located in Southside, it sends a wave of nostalgia and guilt to his chest. He needs to call Lip and his other siblings too. He’s a shit brother these days.

The doorbell rings at 9.01am and Ian is impressed that a tradesperson is on time for once. He makes his way to the front door and when he opens it his body floods with adrenaline. The type that leaves you immobile, like the moment before a car crash, or when you think you’re going to die. The man on his front porch is facing out to the street, but Ian would recognise him, _his_ Mickey, from any angle, at any distance. His body has been stripped of all its strength. 

“Morning, Mr…” Mickey says as he turns. Then stops. And stares. Mouth open and eyes wide with shock. Then whispers, “Johnson…”

Ian’s chest is heaving as he labours to breathe, and his eyes fill with tears. He always thought his body would explode with heat if he ever laid eyes on Mickey again, but it’s the opposite—he feels bitterly cold. His body shivers and shakes standing before the man he still loves. And if there was any doubt before, there isn’t now.

Mickey takes a step back, and Ian knows he’s about to run. How many times had he seen that look in Mickey’s eyes when they were boys? Too many to count. But Ian so desperately doesn’t want him to run. He would chase Mickey a thousand times over a thousand lifetimes if it meant he could have him back. “Mick,” he says softly, taking a tentative step forward and involuntarily reaching out to him.

“Ian…I can’t.” Mickey takes another step back, a hand raising in defence. “I didn’t know. Your husband? Brad. Said I was meeting with Ian Johnson.”

“I changed my name. When I got married. You look good.” He has eased himself out onto the front porch and Mickey’s eyes are roaming all over his face and up and down his body. Ian realises he is doing the same, trying to absorb everything that has changed and everything that is still the same.

His eyes flicker down to Mickey’s mouth. Flashes of a life lost filter through his mind; his lips moving against Mickey’s, the warmth of the man’s mouth sliding down his cock, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, those blue eyes locked on his, laughter, love, so much love. He swallows and closes his eyes, trying to make it stop. The pain and pleasure tangle together, a surge of regret threatening to swallow him up right there on the front doorstep.

“I changed mine, too,” Mickey says as if it explains everything.

Ian frowns for a moment until it hits him that this is Mickey Mason. Is Mickey somebody else’s husband? Mickey should be a Gallagher _._ Ian should _still_ be a Gallagher. “You’ve done well for yourself. Your own company. I’m happy for you, Mick.” He smiles at Mickey as he battles his need to reach out and touch him.

“Guess you fucking have, too” Mickey says, still caught up on his name. But his guard is up now, and the tone is harsh. “Hey, this isn’t gonna work for me. I’ll send over my second in command—Jeff—he’s great.” Mickey is backing up down the path and Ian knows he has no choice but to let him go. “I’ll cue up a time with your husband. Brad.” The way Mickey says Brad makes him want to shrivel up with shame.

“Mick,” he calls out as Mickey turns around and strides towards the front gate.

“Not doing this, Gallagher.”

Then he’s gone.

*****

Mickey climbs into his car and grasps the steering wheel for support as he lets out a deep breath. _Ian._ He never thought he would see him again after all these years. His breath becomes laboured and he realises he’s gasping for air. It’s like someone has punched him in the gut and panic rises and rises inside him.

 _Ian._

_Ian_.

_Ian._

Fuck, he needs to calm down. He wipes at his face, only just realising now that there are tears. Fuck! How many years has it been? He tries to calculate. 18? 20? He can’t fucking think straight. Getting his breath under control, he lays his head back against the headrest as he tries to make sense of his feelings. He thought he was over all the bullshit from his past; he’d made peace with it, he’d let Ian go, he’d moved on. With shaking hands, he pulls out a smoke and lights up, sucking on it as if it’s the only source of oxygen.

Mickey has a husband—Toby—and he loves him. They are happy together. They have a good life. Seven years he had served in prison, and then he’d gotten his life back on track. Meeting Toby had brought him the calm he’d always wanted. Toby gives him the security he craves; he knows he’s loved, and everything is stable. They have been married eight years and life is fucking good.

Mickey could handle this. He could. He didn’t need to be at Ian’s house for the reno job, he could just send his team and oversee it from the office. It will be alright, he assures himself. Mickey turns on his car as he needs to get back to the office for a meeting, but this new, mature Ian just keeps filling his thoughts.

Ian had aged like a fine wine; he’s broad shouldered and muscular, and Mickey loved the way his hair was brushed back. The beard—fuck, the beard - highlighted that beautiful, slightly crooked jaw he used to hold. He imagines the red hair that must now grow on Ian’s chest, and he moans at the thought of running his hands through it. Fuck! Stop, he tells himself. Those green eyes, with flecks of blue and yellow; either full of life or full of sadness and never much in between. He throws the cigarette butt out the window, rests his head on the steering wheel and closes his eyes. _Ian._

*****

Ian is standing in his front window, watching Mickey in his car. He’s still shaking, his emotions so heightened it feels like he could be manic. It’s been five minutes and Mickey still hasn’t driven away. It’s obvious from his body language—the way he collapses onto the steering wheel and then throws his head back against the headrest—that he is struggling as much as Ian is. Ian wants nothing more than to run out there and take him into his arms and tell him everything will be ok; that he never stopped loving him and how sorry he is. But Ian isn’t stupid enough to think that would work. Ian will have to start from scratch and peel back the layers like he did once before. 

When Mickey finally pulls away, Ian slumps down on the floor and cries. It pours out of him and he isn’t sure what it’s all about. He feels an enormous amount of relief—that Mickey is out of prison, happy and successful—but he also feels fearful knowing Mickey is most likely married. It never entered his head that Mickey would marry anyone but him. It’s a wake-up call; realising his narcissism is at the root of it, but it gets him off the floor and wiping his tears away.

Moving into the kitchen, he picks up Mickey’s business card and enters the phone number into his cell, along with the address for MM Makeovers. Then he makes a coffee and sits on the sofa, trying to collect his thoughts. Mickey is not a boy anymore, he’s a man. And a sexy one at that. He is more muscular and toned, and the fine lines just add to his appeal. His eyes are still the most exquisite blue Ian has ever seen, and he wants nothing more than to stare into them before sucking on Mickey’s bottom lip. Ian’s body heat flares and his heart races. Closing his eyes, he fantasizes about having Mickey once again. It ignites something hidden deep inside him, this thrill, this fire, that he’s only ever felt with one person. _Mickey._


	2. You used to love me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up straight after Mickey leaves Ian's house at the end of chapter one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive feedback on chapter one! I am super excited to write this fic. The chapters will be longer now - this chapter is about 6k and the next will be similar in length.
> 
> There will be some flashbacks throughout some of the chapters - flashbacks will start with the year and be in ITALICS! They will also have ~~~~~ before and after to separate them from the present day timeline.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

Mickey arrives back at his workplace, ignoring everyone who speaks to him, then shuts himself in his office. He takes a full hour to pull himself out of his head-space and formulate a plan. Business is good, but it isn’t so good that he can knock back a 20k bathroom renovation. He has no idea what Ian will tell Brad about this morning’s events or if he will reveal if they know each other. But he suspects Ian will lie - he’s good at it - and it seemed like he very much wanted Mickey to stay. For what, he didn’t know. What the fuck could they say to each other after all these years? He calculates in his head and realises it’s been nineteen years since that fucking awful day when Ian visited him in prison. Mickey is 40 years old now, which makes Ian 38. They are both too old for this shit.

He takes a deep breath and dials Brad Johnson’s number.

“Brad Johnson speaking.”

“Hey, um hello Brad. This is Mickey Mason from MM Makeovers calling. How are you doing today?”

“Good thank you Mickey. Is Ian asking for something that blows the budget?” Brad says, chuckling at the end.

Mickey already thought this guy was a fucking douche, but now he feels his anger rising at the subtle mocking of Ian. He shouldn’t give a shit, but it sounds like Brad’s a condescending dick. “Ah no, he’s not. Actually, just as I arrived this morning, I had a family emergency and had to leave. I wondered if I could set up another meeting for tomorrow or any other time that would suit. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“I hope your emergency isn’t too serious. What about tomorrow at 9am?”

“That would be great. Would you like to check with Ian first?”

Brad laughs, “No no, he’s a househusband, he can fit it in around his gym session.”

Mickey bites his tongue, wondering how Ian ended up with this asshole. He hasn’t met Brad, but if he has to hazard a guess, he would say Brad is significantly older than Ian. It looks like Ian went straight back to fucking rich geriatric viagroids. “Thanks for your understanding Brad. I’m going to send Jeff tomorrow. He’s my second in command and he will head up the project while I oversee it.”

“All good Mickey, I hope you get your emergency sorted. Talk soon.”

Mickey is about to thank him, but the prick has already ended the call. He puts his phone down and breathes a sigh of relief—it went better than expected. The rest of the day he spends trying not to think of Ian—not this new, older Ian, nor the Ian of his youth. From time to time Ian does cross his mind; just hoping he’s well and not off his meds pulling a Monica. He always could have found out if he wanted to - Debbie still lives in the Gallagher house on South Homan—but he’s never wanted to. Mickey let go of Ian somewhere between year four and year six in the slammer, and it has served him well. His life has turned out better than he ever expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**_2024…_ **

_Mickey has been out of prison for almost two years when he keeps bumping into the same guy at the coffee shop near his workplace. He knows the guy is interested by the way he keeps smiling at him and they’ve exchanged a few ‘hey’s.’ Once upon a time Mickey would have shut that shit down, but now, he’s just happy to get a second chance at life. Seven years in prison had both hardened and softened him. But most importantly, it had made him let go of his previous self—the violent, angry guy out to prove something._

_He went on the straight and narrow once he got out, landing a job with a company that fitted kitchens in new homes. Recently he was promoted to a supervisor position and that came with a pay rise too. Maybe he’s ready to see if his gaydar works. Maybe he’s ready to have an adult relationship. He’s thirty years old and quick BJs and fucks in dirty bathrooms no longer carry any appeal._

_He takes a deep breath, walks over to the guy, and does something he’s never done before. “Hey, you work around here? I often see you. You’re the mocha latte guy, right?”_

_“Yeah, I work around the corner at Waterstone Financial Services. You’re the black, two sugars guy. I’m Toby.”_

_Toby is smiling at him and clearly nervous, and it makes Mickey feel good. He knows he’s probably being awkward as fuck and coming across rough, but he feels brave doing this shit in public. “I’m Mickey,” he says and then has no idea what else to add, so he sticks his hand out and they shake for a little bit too long._

_“Do you work around this area too?” Toby asks._

_“Yeah, I work for Kitchen Kreations and I have to check in each morning before we head out for the day.” Mickey wonders if Toby will be put off by his blue-collar job when the guy is obviously college educated._

_“Do you enjoy that? Sometimes I get sick of being stuck in an office all day.”_

_“It’s a good gig. Can’t complain. Any chance you’d like to grab a beer or something some time?” He feels fucking hot and waits for the rejection._

_“Shit yeah, I’d love to Mickey. Wasn’t sure if you were…um…you know?”_

_“Yeah, I’m a fag alright.”_

_And then Toby laughs, and he likes the sound of it. The guy is taller than him by a few inches, and he’s got blonde wavy hair and really pale blue eyes. He’s easy on the eyes without getting into that cocky level of good looking. They exchange numbers and Mickey tells him he’ll text him. And he does._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mickey is about to leave for the day, his emotions now under control, when he gets a text notification. He pulls his office door closed, then pulls out his cell as he walks across the showroom floor.

**(224-711-1012)** Mickey, it was great seeing you today. Can we talk pls? Ian

Mickey stops, that feeling of dread wrapping around him like a wet blanket. Of course Ian could get his number. Ian undoubtedly also knew where he worked too. This really fucked up his plan of pretending this morning never happened. He deletes the text, locks up the building for the night and gets in his car. And sits. And smokes. And sits. And smokes.

Mickey knows he should tell Toby that he’s seen Ian. Toby has heard the whole sordid saga in graphic detail over the years, and his husband knows how deeply he had been affected by Ian. No, that’s not entirely true, Mickey hasn’t told Toby about Svetlana and Yevgeny – about how Yev came to be. That’s something that remains between him, Ian and Svetlana and always will. 

Besides, Mickey doesn’t want to cause unnecessary friction in their marriage. They have been together a decade and things are great—why risk upsetting Toby if he’s never going to see Gallagher again. He has it under control. He’ll keep this morning to himself.

When he walks through the door fifteen minutes later, the smell of dinner wafting through the house and the smile on his husband’s face assures him it’s the right decision.

“Hey hun, how was your day?” Toby asks, as Mickey walks into the kitchen and plants a kiss on his husband’s cheek.

“Yeah it was good, Harry Roberts—remember I did their kitchen reno last month—he recommended us to some friends, and they want two bathrooms done.”

“Nothing like word-of-mouth advertising. How did your meeting go this morning with the expensive 20k bathroom?”

Mickey feels his heart race at the thought of lying to his husband. It doesn’t sit well with him. “Yeah went well. I’m going to give it to Jeff to head up. Think he deserves a shot; he’s been working real hard.”

“That’s a great idea, Mick. Dinner will be ready in five if you want to go wash up.”

“Smells great,” Mickey says, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs.

He changes into some sweats and a t-shirt, then takes a piss. While he’s washing his hands, he hears his cell. He considers leaving it until after dinner, but then scoops it off the bed, stopping when he sees the number.

**(224-711-1012)** Mick, do you have time to grab a coffee this week?

Lowering himself down onto the bed, he takes a deep breath and considers his options—keep ignoring Ian’s texts until he gives up _or_ answer him and tell him to fuck off. He’s not surprised Ian thinks it ok for two exes, both now married, to meet up. For a moment he wonders if Ian thinks he just randomly changed his name, not realising he’s married too. Not that that would make it ok either – Ian is married. On the odd chance that’s what it is, he risks replying.

**(Mick)** Appreciate the offer man but we are both married. Jeff will handle your bathroom reno. Best just lose my number.

He presses send, then reads it back and wonders if he’s being too polite. Ten seconds later Ian texts him back.

**(224-711-1012)** Wasn’t asking you on a date Mick. Just thought two old friends could catch up

Toby calls out to let him know dinner is on the table, so he deletes the message thread then turns his phone off in case Ian texts again. 

*

After dinner, he and Toby settle on the sofa to watch a few episodes of ‘The Office.’ They’ve been watching old classics and Toby loves it because he says it reminds him of some people at his work. Mickey doesn’t mind, it has stood the test of time and is still funny. Their life is one of routine and he likes it that way. They go to work Monday through Friday and have weekends together hanging out at home or going out to the local pub every now and again. Toby is his best friend; they don’t argue often, and Toby knows when to stop talking. They enjoy a beer or two at night and get away every year for an annual holiday. It’s simple and there’s no drama.

Their sex life is good—maybe a little vanilla—but Mickey can’t complain because he gets it on the regular and he knows Toby would never cheat on him. And that’s fucking important. He’ll take faithful over fireworks any day. Mickey swings his legs up onto Toby’s lap and is rewarded with a foot rub. His feet are sore from standing most of the afternoon and he moans; it feels so good.

“Enjoying that, hun?” Toby says, and winks at him. 

“Maybe you can massage me with your mouth?” he says, raising his eyebrows.

Toby laughs, “In that case I really hope you want me to massage your lips or your dick and not your feet.”

“Well since you mentioned my dick…”

Toby crawls up him and kisses him before making his way down his body and pulling out his dick. Mickey closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth of his husbands’ mouth. It’s nice and it’s familiar. Seconds before he’s about to cum, he’s hit with a memory of Ian sucking and moaning on his cock. He gasps with pleasure, and then shoots his load, unable to get those green eyes out of his head as his orgasm pulses through him. 

*****

Turns out Jeff is a great guy who helps Ian choose a totally new bathroom design. He decides on white with touches of black, including a freestanding soaking tub that is romantic and old fashioned. Thinking he should keep one thing Brad wants, Jeff helps him select a rain showerhead that matches the new design. It’s the only thing he didn’t hate, so it’s an easy choice. He also chats to Jeff about his work; the man more than happy to answer Ian’s seemingly innocent questions.

He discovers the following—Mickey’s husband’s name is Toby and they have been married around 7 or 8 years (Jeff guesses), Mickey started the business around the time he got married and it’s going great (the business and the marriage according to Jeff). Mickey apparently saves money because Toby is an accountant and does Mickey’s bookkeeping. They don’t have kids and live Southside close to the MM Makeovers showroom. 

Ian couldn’t wrap his head around Mickey being married to an accountant, so after Jeff leaves, he opens his laptop and spends the rest of the morning researching. Well stalking. He’s never dared to cyber stalk Mickey before, although it has crossed his mind many, many times. It wouldn’t have yielded much anyway—Mickey has no social media to speak of, and the only evidence of Mickey on the internet is his business website and associated reviews. Toby Mason, however, is a different story. 

Toby has many platforms going, although mostly set to private, but it enables him to discover that Toby works for Waterstone Financial Services in downtown Chicago. Even though he isn’t 100% sure why he is doing it, Ian adds the business name and address to his ‘notes’ on his cell. He then looks at the photos he can access - wishing he hadn’t—coming face to face with a romantic wedding photo, followed by one of Toby kissing Mickey’s cheek while Mickey gives the camera the finger. He swallows down his jealousy. At least he now knows what this Toby looks like—a few inches taller than Mickey, blonde wavy hair, blue eyes and pretty average. The gay boy next door type, attractive but not overly so. He seems a little on the ‘soft’ side for Mickey’s taste, but then he considers how many people think he’s a pretty boy too. And people always assumed he was the bottom, not Mickey. So maybe he’s not reading it right?

After lunch he calls Mickey. He isn’t going to give up after one ignored text. It rings and rings and eventually goes to voicemail, so he leaves a message…

“Hey Mick, I didn’t hear back from you last night. Would love to catch up for a beer. Or a coffee. It’s been nearly twenty years, man. Umm…can you text me or call? Either is fine….was really good seeing you.”

He ends the call, realising he went from sounding like an old drinking buddy to a jilted lover in the space of ten seconds. Fuck, he’s an idiot. 

After lunch he does some housework, hits the gym, and then picks Lucinda up from school. When he gets a call from Brad saying he’s working late at the office, he tells Lucinda he’s meeting a friend for a drink. He’s not sure what the fuck he’s doing, but he feels alive for the first time in years. And he likes it.

*****

It’s after closing time when Mickey locks the front door. It’s not uncommon for him to finish late - being the owner and all - but what is uncommon is another car in his parking lot. When a tall ginger slips out of the front seat and starts heading in his direction, he’s fucking pissed, but not all that surprised. It’s not like Ian Gallagher hasn’t worn him down with his persistence once before. 

Mickey must have his mood written all over his face because when Ian speaks, he already sounds desperate. “Mick, I just want to talk. Please? We could grab a beer or a coffee? I need you to understand. I need to apologise.”

Mickey just walks straight past him, heading for his car. “Consider yourself forgiven. Leave the past in the past Gallagher.” Ian trails behind then pushes past to stand in front of his driver’s side door. “What the fuck, Gallagher?”

“Mickey, why can’t we be friends? I just want to catch up.”

This version of Ian is confusing as fuck. He’s different; more mature, more masculine, sexy, and yet he’s still that teenage boy with his nervous energy and those lost puppy dog eyes. Mickey needs to stay focused and not fall prey to his instincts. Now that he’s older he can recognise his body’s chemical reaction to Ian; it’s strong and it’s primal, but it doesn’t bring him happiness.

“Ian, get the fuck out of my way,” he says, thinking of Toby waiting for him at home. “We were never fucking friends. I’m married, you’re married.” A thought suddenly pops into his head, “You got kids?”

Ian frowns, “Yeah, a daughter. She’s fourteen.”

And with that, his irritation rises. “So go home and focus on your kid. You’re lucky enough to have one, don’t fuck it up now.”

Ian looks down at his feet and then back up at him with _those_ eyes, asking for forgiveness, looking as fragile as he did at fifteen. Mickey almost softens, but then Ian speaks again.

“Mickey, I care about you. I want you in my life.”

He’s fucking pissed now. He takes a few deep breaths and then huffs out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Ian, if you fucking cared about me you wouldn’t have left me to rot in prison. If you wanted me in your life, you would have known when I got out, and when I got married, and where I live. Too fucking late now!” By the time he reaches the end, he’s close to yelling. Ian has fuck all to say about it and just stares at him, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with an excuse. 

“That’s why I want to talk. But not here. One beer Mick. Please.”

“What the fuck does your husband think of all this? Does Brad know you’re here right now? Does Brad know we used to fuck?”

Mickey watches all the colour drain out of Ian’s face. It’s a low blow to reduce their relationship to fucking, but this has already gone too far, and he needs to put a stop to it. He needs to get into his car and get the fuck home to his husband where he belongs.

Ian takes a step closer to him, his eyes burning with anger, “Maybe I don’t give a fuck what Brad thinks.” Ian walks to his car, gets in and drives away. Mickey is still standing there two minutes later, heart thudding against his rib cage.

The drive home has his head spinning. This is obviously going to be a bigger problem than he first thought. How long has Gallagher been married if he has a fourteen-year-old? Yevgeny crosses his mind and he shoves it down. He wants to know if Ian’s daughter is biologically his or Brad’s and he doesn’t know why that’s important to him, but somehow it is. And he’s hung up on it, wondering if she’s Ian’s flesh and blood or that fuckwit Brad’s. She’s fourteen?! Ian must have gotten married before that, he assumes. Just how fucking long did Ian wait after they broke up? It’s a knife in the fucking back, is what it is.

*****

Ian doesn’t go home straight away; he just drives around listening to depressing music. He calls Lucinda to check if she’s okay and finds out Brad is already home. The last thing he wants to do is face him; he knows Brad wants to fuck tonight and after the shit with Mickey he doesn’t know if he can do it. Stopping at a convenience store, he buys a pack of smokes and lights up. He stopped smoking when Lucinda was born, but occasionally he falls into old habits—especially when he’s riding out a manic episode, or anxious. He’s not sure which one he is right now, but he fucking hopes it isn’t manic.

What Mickey said hit a nerve, and not only because Mickey implied their relationship was nothing more than fucking, but because Brad makes him feel like he is nothing more than a possession. Like Brad is in charge of Ian and everything he does. He is nearly forty, and Brad still treats him like a child. He doesn’t need Brad’s permission to see Mickey. Or to get a job. Or fucking anything else for that matter.

He expected Mickey to be angry at him for what he did all those years ago, but it had been nineteen _years_ and they were so young. They both did stupid things back then, they both hurt each other. He wonders if Mickey can find it in his heart to forgive him. It hurts too much to consider that he won’t.

After fifty minutes he pulls into the driveway and Brad is trying to call him as he climbs out of his car. Brad asks him if he had fun with his friend and then drops it. His husband either trusts him not to cheat or doesn’t give a shit. Brad tells him he ordered pizza for dinner - since Ian didn’t bother to cook anything - and he left him a couple of slices. He tries to eat but he just feels sick, so he heads to the shower to get away from Brad. 

Later that evening, once they are in bed, Brad confronts him about his mood.

“What’s going on Ian? You’ve been up and down the last two days. You need a trip to the Doc or is something else going on?”

Ian is lying on his back and Brad has rolled onto his side to look at him. Without turning his head, he replies, “It’s all good. Just that dickhead at the gym—you know that guy I told you about—pissed me off yesterday. Shouldn’t let the meathead get to me.”

“You want me to take care of it? I can threaten the gym with a lawsuit if they don’t revoke his membership,” Brad says, hand stroking down his chest.

“Not a fucking child, Brad. I can take care of myself,” he says, getting pissed and placing his hand on top of Brad’s, stopping it getting any lower. 

“I know you can sweetheart, but I like taking care of you.” Brad sits up on one elbow and kisses him. “I also like it when you take care of me.” Then Brad kisses down his body. He’s rejected him for the last three nights in a row and he’d been backed into a corner this morning, agreeing to have sex tonight. So he either needs to put out or have a fight about it. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s thrusting halfheartedly into Brad from behind—he doesn’t want to look at him—while Brad moans in pleasure. Brad is ageing now, and Ian uses it as one more reason to be repelled by him. Fifteen years seems like a bigger age gap now Brad is 53 with a dad bod. Ian knows he sounds like a fucking shallow asshole, just as he knows if he still loved Brad he wouldn’t give a shit about his body, but the more he resents his husband the more he is physically revolted by him. 

Letting his mind wander, he imagines he’s 18 again and moving inside Mickey. He knows it’s wrong, but it’s all he’s got right now. Letting the fantasy take hold, he closes his eyes and allows the memories to flow. Everything else falls away and he lets himself cum, saying Mickey, over and over again inside his head.

An hour later, he still can’t sleep, grateful that Brad is snoring beside him and unaware. Since seeing Mickey again, his world has turned upside down. He knows for sure now that he was never _in_ love with Brad. He did love him in the beginning, but it was a comfortable, safe love. Maybe it had been too soon after Mickey, maybe he rushed into it, maybe he had just been too young. But none of it matters anymore because his heart is beating wildly in his chest for a man with blue eyes and full lips. And he’s no longer just a distant memory. He’s real flesh and blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**_2017…_ **

_Ian finally has his life in order; he’s been working as an EMT for three months and getting a regular pay check which he loves. Two years had passed since all that Sammi/army bullshit and his mental health is now stable. Today, he’s splashing out and joining a gay gym. Some guy he’d hooked up with at a club had recommended it, and he feels ready to start dating again. He’s ready for more than a casual fuck._

_Once he fills in all the paperwork, someone gives him a tour of the facilities and then leaves him to it. It’s fucking wall to wall queers, and he’s half hard before he even starts his warmup. Half of the men have their shirts off, bodies glistening and sweat dripping. He’s about two minutes into his run on a treadmill when he notices a guy checking him out. Ian would guess he’s in his mid-30s, about 5’10” with dark hair and deep brown eyes. The guy is sexy as fuck in a skintight top, his abs and pecs on display, and a three-day growth that makes him look ruggedly sophisticated._

_Ian smirks as he looks the guy up and down, then lifts his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. If it gives the guy a look at his abs, then that’s completely deliberate. The moment he powers down the treadmill, the guy approaches._

_“Hey, you’re new,” the guy says, blatantly checking him out. He likes being checked out, and he likes older men. A shrink would have a field day with his Daddy issues, but no one can deny a man in his 30s is a man in his prime._

_“Yeah, just joined today. I’m Ian.” He hops off the treadmill and they shake hands._

_“I’m Brad Johnson. So what do you do, Ian? You still in college?”_

_“No, I’m an EMT. What about you?”_

_“I’m a lawyer at Davis, Goldstein and Brown. You want to work out together today?”_

_“Lead the way,” he says, while checking out Brad’s ass. It’s not bad. It’s not like Mick’s, fuck he wishes he would stop doing that. He follows Brad over to the leg press, still not sure if Brad is a top or bottom, thinking maybe he’s vers. Which is okay, he can work with that in the short term, although he’s not sure if he’ll ever bottom for anyone._

_Not an hour later - in the showers - he gets his answer when Brad takes one look at his half-hard cock and tells him he’d like to ride it after taking him out for dinner on Saturday night. The weekend suddenly sounds a lot more appealing._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been two days since his altercation with Mickey outside MM Makeovers. The man is never far from his thoughts and he catches himself staring into space in the middle of vacuuming or loading the dishwasher. He’s held off from texting or calling, but with every day that passes his anxiety grows. After the argument, he thought Mickey might reach out to him. If he wasn’t going to, then Ian needed to think rationally about his next move.

The bathroom renovation began this morning, and while he feels certain Jeff and the other two men working are trustworthy, he can’t relax with strangers in his house. He spent a couple of hours yesterday on the internet and making phone calls about updating his EMT qualifications and was surprised to find out he only needs to do a 6 week refresher course that will update his CPR and other essential skills. The next available course starts in two weeks if he can get his application sorted by tomorrow. 

Taking his documents and laptop outside for some privacy from the reno crew, he gets to work on filling in his application and uploading his academic transcripts. He has no intention of telling Brad what he’s doing. The course contact hours are during business hours, and he won’t have any trouble organising a mom from school to help with Lucinda. He’s done plenty of favours for them over the years, and all of Lu’s friends’ moms love him. Once he’s finished, he heads back inside to discover Jeff is calling out for him.

“Ian, are you around?” Jeff calls from the bottom of the stairs.

Walking through the kitchen and into the living room he answers, “Yeah Jeff, right here.”

“Oh hey man, Mickey just called. There could be a delay on the feature tile for the shower and it might add a couple of extra days to the reno. He wants to know if that’s okay or if you want to choose a different tile?”

“Why didn’t Mickey just call me?” he asks, feeling annoyed at the extent Mickey would go to, to avoid talking to him.

“Not sure. He just wants me to let him know asap. The one you chose looks great.”

“Okay, just stick with the same one,” he replies. It’s an easy decision if it means getting to keep a connection to Mickey for a couple more days.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jeff says, then heads back upstairs.

*

When he arrives home from picking Lucinda up from cheer practise Jeff calls him up to the bathroom.

“Everything okay Jeff?” he asks entering the room which now looks like a tornado hit it with half of it ripped out.

“Yeah yeah, all okay. Mickey just called again and wanted me to ask you if you’d like to upgrade to this showerhead,” Jeff says, showing him a photo on his Ipad. The showerhead looks exactly the same as the one he’s already picked.

“What’s the difference and how much extra is it?” he asks, frowning in frustration.

“It’s got more holes so the water streams out really fine, but you still get excellent water flow. The water will seem softer on your skin. It’s an extra $100.”

Ian feels like laughing out loud. Is Mickey making this shit up to piss him off or get him to go over there or is he just a chicken shit these days? Couldn’t he throw in a $100 upgrade on a 20k reno? “Tell him I’d like the upgrade for free,” he tells Jeff, then storms back downstairs to get his cell off the kitchen bench. He punches out the text, getting madder by the second.

**I think you should throw in the upgrade for free** 😉

The wink emoji is to piss Mickey off and doesn’t come close to reflecting how he actually feels. Mickey’s reply comes through two minutes later.

**(Mick)** Gallagher- Jeff is running your reno—deal with him.

Ian grabs his keys and tells Lucinda he’s heading out and she can order whatever she wants for dinner. If Lucinda cared about him leaving, he wouldn’t go, but she spends all her time in her room anyway. On the drive over, he gets himself more and more worked up and becomes less clear about what his intentions are. All he knows is that he wants to see Mickey, yell at him, kiss him, fuck him, hold him.

When he pulls into the parking lot, it’s 5.41pm and there are two cars parked. One is Mickey’s and the other he assumes belongs to an employee. He hesitates for a minute, then someone exits and heads towards the other car. Hoping the employee didn’t lock the door, he makes his way over and enters MM Makeover’s for the first time. He finds himself in a large showroom with only one light on, but he can see a light coming from an office on the other side.

“Is that you, Sam? You forget something again?” Mickey calls out.

Ian strides across the room toward the sound of Mickey’s voice and flings the office door open. Mickey jumps up out of his chair in fright, fists up and ready to attack.

“Fucking hell Gallagher,” Mickey yells, eyes wide with shock.

“If you have a question for me don’t be a fucking pussy—just pick up the phone and ask,” he yells, “Or come and do the fucking reno yourself.”

Mickey moves out from behind his desk, “You shouldn’t fucking be here, Gallagher.”

“What the fuck are you gonna do about it, huh?” He moves forward, getting right up in Mickey’s face. He can feel Mickey’s breath—hot and angry—on his face. “What? Not so tough anymore?” he challenges, desperate to push Mickey’s buttons.

Mickey shoves him hard in the chest, enough for him to have to step back to balance himself. “I’ll fucking lay you out, Gallagher,” Mickey spits out at him, nostrils flaring.

They are both breathing hard, chests rising and falling as they consider their next move. Ian can’t comprehend his physical response to Mickey, even after all these years. It’s deep in his gut, visceral and blinding. They belonged to each other once. Mickey loved him enough to mark his body with his name, and Ian had been annoyed and embarrassed by it. He hates himself so much for what he did to Mickey. For what he did to them.

Not considering how stupid it is, he surges forward and rips Mickey’s shirt open, buttons popping off and pinging as they land across the hardwood floors of the office.

“What the fuck, Ian!” Mickey yells. He feels the wind get knocked out of him as Mickey slams him into the wall and holds him in place.

Ian already knows, but he looks down again at Mickey’s chest. “It’s gone.”

Mickey knows exactly what he’s talking about and his voice is laced with hurt, “Of course its fucking gone.” Mickey releases him and turns away, pulling the shirt closed.

“You used to love me,” he whispers, the memory of saying those same words once before stinging at his eyes.

Mickey leans onto his desk, his head hanging down in defeat. “I did. But that was a fucking long time ago. I’m not that person anymore. Just get the fuck out, Gallagher.”

Mickey doesn’t turn around to face him, instead he moves to open a locker, takes out an MM Makeover uniform shirt and starts to change. Tears threaten to fall, so he quietly makes his way out, his body weak with the after effects of adrenaline.

*****

When Mickey hears the front door click closed, he slumps down in his chair exhausted. He slips his hand under his shirt and feels his chest where the tattoo used to be. It took seven sessions over a year to get it removed, but he can still see it if he looks hard enough. The last session had been the day before he asked Toby out on a date. 

Being around Ian makes his chest beat hard and that frightens him. His skin feels electric and his mind is firing at lighting speed. It’s not a good thing, he knows that, but it tempts him and for the first time in a long time he is afraid of who he is under this middle class suburban facade. Ian knows him in a way Toby never will.

Gathering his things, he heads out of his office, wondering if Ian is stable. Is all this extreme emotion part of a manic episode, or does Ian really feel this deeply about him after all these years? Either option scares the shit out of him. He steps outside and sees Ian’s car is still in the parking lot.

“Do you love him?”

He sees the orange glow of the cigarette first before Ian steps out of the shadows and looks him straight in the eye. Part of him wants nothing more than to pass that smoke backwards and forwards between them like they did when they were young. It would feel like home. He turns back around and locks the door before answering, “I married him, didn’t I? Course I love him.” He starts off towards his car, Ian not a breath behind him.

“Are you _in_ love with him?” He can hear the desperation and hope in Ian’s voice - all mixed up together. 

“Fuck off,” he says, but he’s got no fight left in him tonight and it comes out soft. Ian grabs him by the shoulder, and he lets himself be turned around. Looking into those green eyes, he sees both the good and bad from his past. Ian’s hand is still on his shoulder, and he’s acutely aware of how it feels to be touched by him. 

“It’s not the same though is it? Nothing can ever feel like what we had. You can fucking deny it all you want Mick, but I know what you felt with me.”

He shrugs Ian’s hand off his shoulder and continues to his car. Ian hasn’t followed but is standing watching him. “You don’t know shit, Gallagher,” he says as he gets in.

As he drives off the lot, he watches Ian in his rear-view mirror—his first love standing eerily still, shoulders slumped. He would have to be fucking dead not to feel something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be up on Saturday and I can't wait to share it with you! 
> 
> PLEASE subscribe / Kudos if you are enjoying it!  
> I love to hear people's thoughts - so please do comment! I've just hit 5 months on restrictions and lockdown - with my business being closed this entire time - so it brightens my day to hear from my readers!  
> Stay safe and take care!!  
> Rachael x   
> Twitter @dancelovermk


	3. We belong together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up the day after Ian and Mickey's little altercation in Mickey's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is something in this chapter that I can imagine some people might - potentially - be mildly offended by and viewed as homophobic. I have addressed this in my end notes. 
> 
> REMINDER: flashbacks are in italics and begin with the year they occurred.
> 
> Interesting developments in this chapter - hope you enjoy!

When Mickey wakes up the next day, he tells Toby he needs to pop down to the showroom for a couple of hours. It’s Saturday, and he only works weekends if he absolutely has to, normally leaving Sam to hold down the fort. But after last night with Ian, he needs to be alone and his office is his best bet. Once he arrives, he tells Sam not to disturb him and locks the door before sitting down at his desk.

Toby isn’t stupid—he’s already asked him a few times if something is wrong. Mickey hates lying to his husband, it makes him feel like a piece of shit. Even more, he hates that Ian has this power over him. He knows that he chose not to tell Toby because it would have meant this new tie to Ian would have been cut, and that somewhere, deep inside of him, he didn’t want that.

Standing up, he pulls out his smokes and heads over to the window, lighting up and inhaling deeply. He feels fucking exhausted from nights of disrupted sleep and disturbing nightmares. Terry has featured, something he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time. It’s indicative of all the unresolved hurt and pain hidden below the surface, and Ian is wrapped up in so much of it. Maybe he needs closure? Maybe that’s what Ian needs too? They never talked after that last prison visit and while he’s worked through his shit, maybe he hasn’t worked through all of it. Maybe he needs to see Ian and talk about it? Then he’ll get some closure - or whatever the fuck it is they say - and really be free of the past. They are grown men; they should be able to do this without destroying each other’s lives. Mickey pulls his cell out of his pocket, finds the number in his missed calls log, and then taps out a message.

**(Mick)** I think we should talk. Let’s have that beer—Monday at Barney Callaghan’s on Western Ave 6pm. But I need your word that after this you stop calling and showing up at my work.

Not thirty seconds later, he receives a reply.

**(224-711-1012)** You have my word. See you Monday.

Mickey deletes the message thread; surprised Ian didn’t start a full-on negotiation over the conditions. He’s not 100% sure he’s done the right thing, but he knows Ian will just keep turning up if he doesn’t take the lead on this. It gives him a sense of control, as false as it may be. 

Pulling up Toby’s number, he calls his husband. “Hey Tobes.”

“What’s up, hun?”

“Just feel bad that I gotta work today. Want to take you out to dinner tonight to make up for it.”

“I’d like that Mick. You’ve been kind of preoccupied this week, be nice to spend some quality time.”

This is Toby’s way of trying to get him to open up about what’s going on. It’s normal behaviour for him to pull away when he’s dealing with shit, but never has it been something that threatens their relationship. This is uncharted territory. “Yeah, I’d like that too. It’s just work bullshit, it’s all good.”

“Okay hun, what time will you be home?”

“Maybe another hour. Love you Tobes.”

“Love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2024**

_Mickey is on his second date with Toby, and he’s quite surprised to be here. It’s not that their first date went badly—Mickey had a great time—but nothing had happened. No sex, no blow job, not even a kiss. When Toby asked him out again, he realised maybe this was how well brought-up gay men behaved. He also figured Toby was attracted to bad boys. What other explanation could there be?_

_Toby wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known before; his younger self would have labelled him a Northside prick and looked the other way. But Terry was dead, and he wanted to leave his past behind. Gallagher had left him behind and all of Southside, if what he’d heard was true, and now, he wanted to do the same._

_So here he is, at a fancy restaurant where he felt out of place and self-conscious as fuck, and Toby doesn’t seem to notice. Mickey thinks he should tell Toby he spent seven years in prison for attempted murder, but maybe he will hold off on sharing that._

_“So Mickey, I know it’s a cliché to ask. But when did you know you were gay?”_

_Fuck, that’s a personal question and one he’s not sure how to answer. Or even if he wants to. “Probably around thirteen or fourteen. I used to watch porn with my older brothers and cousins. They were talking about the women’s tits and pussy’s and I was just looking at the guy’s dicks. When I was fifteen and in juvie for the first time, I fucked a few guys. I did it to make sure I didn’t end up somebody’s bitch, and I enjoyed it a lot more than fucking girls.” He stops talking because Toby’s mouth is open and his eyes are wide with shock. Perhaps he should just get up and leave now._

_“You were in juvie? What for?” Toby asks, brow furrowed as he waits for the answer._

_“I can just get the fuck out of here right now if you want?” he says, not hiding his anger._

_“No, no, Mickey. I’m not judging. I don’t know shit about your past, but I’d like to. I’ve led a privileged life with fucking rainbows and unicorns, but I’m not a snob. I realise other people have done it tough. Please?”_

_Mickey calms down a little and continues. “My dad was a piece of shit. A homophobic, violent, Nazi-loving motherfucker. He was a criminal, and he raised us all to follow in his footsteps. I went to juvie the first time for dealing drugs.” He pauses, wondering if he wants to open up to this guy, who’s basically a stranger. Toby is looking at him with a mix of sympathy and respect, so he decides to continue. “When I was eighteen, I was seeing a guy in secret and my dad caught us. He beat the shit out of both of us. It wasn’t the only time he tried to kill me for being a fag.”_

_Toby reaches across the table and puts his hand on top of his. Mickey looks around to see if anyone is looking—he can’t help it, its ingrained in him—then turns his hand over to grasp Toby’s. It feels nice. Toby smiles at him. “I realised I was gay when I got a crush on Ricky Martin and thought show-tunes were cool. When I came out my Mom bought me a rainbow flag for my room and wore a ‘I love my gay son’ t-shirt. They both burst out laughing. Then Toby got serious, “Mickey, I don’t give a shit about your past. I like you. Was hoping you might like to come over tonight.”_

_“Play your cards right and we’ll see.” He has a good feeling about Toby._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ian can’t concentrate on anything as Monday afternoon drags on for all eternity. After receiving the text from Mickey on Saturday, he has barely eaten or slept, his thoughts never straying from the object of his desire. His fantasies run on a loop; from sweet domestic moments like watching a movie together or making dinner, to cuddling and kissing in bed, to the absolute lust driven filth of eating Mickey out and cumming hard inside him. He wants it all. He wants the passion and fireworks he’s only ever experienced with Mickey.

When it’s time to leave, he shoots off a text to Jordan - his friend that’s agreed to be his cover story if needed—making sure he’s still on board. He wonders if Mickey has told his husband the truth or made up a lie, knowing full well what a lie says about his true feelings. Ian hopes for a lie, then feels like shit for wanting to be a home wrecker, before shrugging it off. He’s a selfish fucker when it comes to Mickey and there’s no denying it.

This meeting will most likely determine everything, and the importance of it does not escape him. He can’t come on too strong; he has to pull back, or his chance will be lost forever. Once the return text comes in from Jordan, he kisses Lucinda on the forehead, reminding her that her dinner is in the oven and heads out to his car.

*****

Mickey had a great night with Toby on Saturday, and they didn’t make it out of bed until noon on Sunday. He feels solid again by the time Monday rolls around. Ready to see Ian and talk this through; facing the past will put it to bed once and for all. Being attracted to Ian doesn’t have a single fucking thing to do with having feelings for him. And he doesn’t have any feelings, so as long as he can keep his dick from interfering in his thought processes, he’ll be good.

He would prefer not to lie to Toby about what he’s doing, but this will be the last time and the end will justify the means. Toby thinks he’s having a long overdue boys’ night with Iggy and some of his cousins–having a few beers and playing pool at some bar. He hasn’t told Iggy, so he hopes there’s no chance of getting caught. Iggy never calls Toby and Toby wouldn’t phone Iggy unless he couldn’t get hold of him, and that isn’t going to happen—his cell will be with him at all times.

Locking up the building for the night, he slips into his car and feels his stomach flip with nerves. Fuck, he needs to keep cool. No letting Gallagher push his buttons. No angry outbursts, no sentimentality, and no flirting. After he turns on the ignition, he lights up a smoke, then heads off.

*****

Ian is already seated at a booth by 5.55pm. He’s got on black jeans, a skintight deep green v-neck t-shirt and his favourite leather jacket. Taking off his jacket is definitely on the agenda after Mickey’s had a beer or two. He’s expecting Mickey to be late since he’s coming from work, so he pulls out his cell and starts scrolling through his social media to distract himself.

“Bar stool too good for you these days?”

Startled by Mickey’s voice, he looks up to see the man is teasing him, a subtle smirk on his face. 

“Hey Mick. Thanks for this. They have burgers and shit here so I thought you might like to grab a bite to eat.”

Mickey sits himself down on the opposite side of the booth and places his cell on the table. “Yeah, let’s eat. I’m fucking starving.”

“Okay, I’ll go order and get us some beers.” Ian gets himself up and heads over to the bar. He chances a few glances at Mickey, noticing he looks as nervous as he feels. A few minutes later he’s back at the booth with two beers.

“How much do I owe you, man?”

“Fuck off Mick, it’s just burgers and beers. It’s on me.” Ian’s finding it hard to breathe, his heart beating too fast. Add that to his sweaty palms and armpits and he’s like a teenager on a first date. Even worse there’s now an uncomfortable silence and he doesn’t know where to start. “Umm…I guess I need to apologise for the other night with the shirt and everything. Don’t know what fucking got into me.”

Mickey takes a few chugs of his beer before responding, “You taking your meds?”

Fuck, he wasn’t expecting that. He looks down and takes a deep breath - he doesn’t want his frustration to put an end to the evening before it begins. “Yeah, I’m taking my meds. Been stable for years. Got a good doctor that I see regularly, and she adjusts them if there’s any sign of an imbalance.” He hasn’t been sleeping well, but he’s sure it’s just Mickey and nothing else.

“Glad to hear you got that shit under control. Look, Ian, I know you said you wanted to apologise but honestly you don’t need to. It’s a lifetime ago and we were just kids. We both fucked up and life turned out pretty good anyway. Looks like you married some rich guy, got the family you wanted, and you’re out of Southside. I got my shit together, love my business, I’m happily married…”

The waitress chooses that exact moment to bring their order, and Ian uses the time to collect his thoughts before he speaks. Once she’s out of ear shot, he answers, “Mick, I get what you’re saying but it’s important for me to say I’m sorry. Cos I really fucking am. Thought a lot about you over the years. Wanted to contact you but didn’t think you would see me after what I did. And considering that you didn’t want to see me now—after nineteen years—I think I was right. So, anyway, I’m sorry.”

Ian can’t get a read on Mickey, which is fucking weird because he’s normally an open book with that expressive face of his. He lets Mickey take a bite of his burger and waits. At least they aren’t yelling at each other, and Mickey doesn’t look like he’s about to do a runner.

“Ian, it’s just too long ago to drag it all up. I forgive you alright. So you can get on with your life after tonight and not give me another thought. It’s all good. Let’s just enjoy our food and beer man. Tell me about Brad or some shit.”

Suddenly wishing he was drunk, Ian chugs down half his beer before speaking. “Met Brad when I was 21, not long after I became an EMT. It was-”

“You’re a fucking EMT?”

“Was. Gave it up when we had Lu. Lucinda, is our daughter. Probably rushed into things too fast with Brad. He’s fifteen years older than me and we got married a year after we met, then we had Lucinda about 18 months after that.”

“Fuck, that was fast. Lucinda, huh? Nice name. You got a photo?”

Ian opens his photos on his cell and scrolls to a recent photo of his daughter before passing it to Mickey. The look on Mickey’s face is one of shock, then he softens and smiles.

“Gallagher genes are strong fuckers, aren’t they? She looks just like you.”

“What? Too pale and freckly?”

“Nah man, she’s beautiful. You know what I meant.”

Mickey really looks at him for the first time and his chest tightens as the air gets sucked out of the room. They are silent for a few seconds, just looking at each other, and then Mickey breaks it, finishing his beer. “Hey, you want another beer?”

“Sure, why not, it’s a special occasion.” Mickey heads over to the bar and he relaxes back against the booth. He shouldn’t have two beers, but fuck it. There’s something he loves about being called Gallagher again. The way is rolls off Mickey’s tongue like the last missing nineteen years never happened.

Mickey returns with the beers and Ian gets in a few more mouthfuls before the questions start again. When did Mickey become such a conversationalist?

“So what does Brad do? Seems like you hit the jackpot living in that fancy Northside house.”

“He’s a lawyer. He was rich when I met him, but then he made partner a few years ago and now we’re filthy rich. But I can tell you, the money doesn’t make you happy.”

“Funny how only rich people say that,” Mickey says, annoyance clear in his voice. “You happy?” he adds.

“To be brutally fucking honest, no.”

“You love your daughter though, right? You always wanted kids.”

“Of course I love her. But teenagers can be…you know…fucking know-it-alls. She doesn’t need me anymore. Feel a bit redundant.” This is the most honest he’s been with anyone in a long time, and it’s bringing up a lot of emotional shit. 

“Ian, she fucking needs you now more than ever. Teenagers like to push their boundaries, but underneath it, they still need to know you’re there and will kick their ass if they step out of line.”

He doesn’t want to talk about Lucinda, it’s too raw. “Enough about me, what’s your story? When did you get out?” He swallows hard, afraid he shouldn’t have asked.

Mickey shovels the last of his fries into his mouth before answering. “Served seven years, then when I got out I got a job for a company fitting kitchens in new homes. Met Toby—that’s my husband—about two years after I got out and we’ve been married eight years now. Started MM Makeovers about seven years ago and it’s doing well. Love being my own boss.”

“I’m really happy for you Mick. Dare I ask about Terry?”

“That motherfucker kicked the bucket in 2020. He got Covid. Guess karma finally caught up with him. I was fucking glad I didn’t have to deal with his shit when I got out. It was like a second chance at life.”

“I’m glad you don’t have to deal with his shit anymore. You and Toby got any kids? You get to see Yev?”

“Nah man. We thought about it, but it’s a big hassle to get a surrogate and a donor and it costs a lot. We used all our savings to start the company, and then it took a few years to turn a profit. I’m forty now, so getting past it. As for Yev, I don’t even fucking know where he is. I thought about trying to find him when I got out, but figured he’d be better off without me.”

“Maybe one day he’ll come looking for you. Think you would’ve been a great dad, Mick.”

“Fuck off, Gallagher,” Mickey says, but he’s smiling at him and it’s genuine and Ian feels a warmth spread across his chest. He’s missed Mickey’s smile so much. And his jokes. He’d almost forgotten how quick witted he was. It feels like they just talked yesterday, it feels right.

“You still live Southside? The neighbourhood’s middle class now. There’s some damn nice houses there.”

“Who would’ve fucking thought, ay?” Mickey says, eyebrows up in his hairline. “We bought the house next to Sheila’s. You remember Sheila?”

“You serious?”

“Yeah, we gutted it and did a full reno on it. It’s perfect. If anything, it’s too big for just the two of us.”

*****

Mickey is happy with the way the night is going. It feels like they’ve cleared the air and it’s kind of nice to talk to Ian after all these years. After the initial awkwardness, they both relaxed and he can see Gallagher hasn’t changed all that much—underneath the designer clothes he’s still a dork. And Ian still makes him smile. Mickey thinks it’s a shame Ian ended up married to an uppity prick, but he got a kid out of it so that must make up for it.

Seeing the photo of Ian’s daughter, an exact girl version of Ian, made him feel nostalgic for the time when they all lived together with Yev. He knows Ian’s a great dad because of how he was with Yev and he can’t deny there’s a part of him that would have liked to raise a…fuck, he has to stop this train of thought. They’ve already been at the bar a couple of hours and Ian is telling him about his siblings - well telling him he doesn’t see his siblings - but he’s stopped listening, lost in his own thoughts.

Mickey is letting his eyes wander over Ian’s face as he speaks, wanting to reach out and touch his cheek, see how the beard feels on his skin. His eyes travel down to Ian’s hand on the table—he always liked Ian’s long fingers—and then his mind is back in the Trumball Ave house with Ian kissing him slowly while those fingers push deep inside of him. His body temperature rises and blood rushes to his dick.

“Mick? Are you even listening to me? Fuck, are you tipsy? How many beers you had?”

He adjusts himself under the table and tries to snap himself out of it. “Fucking one too many by the looks of it.” And they both laugh, because Ian’s only had two beers and he’s definitely got a buzz going because of his meds.

“Hey Mick, you see those two fuckwits over there playing pool?” Ian motions to one of the pool tables. 

“What about em?” he asks, turning to look at them.

“They think they’re hot shit at pool. Keep announcing which ball they’re about to sink, then miss them half the time. Are you still good at pool? Cos we’ve got a pool table at my house and I’ve gotten fucking brilliant over the years. You wanna see if we can hustle them?”

Ian is smirking at him, excited like a little kid about to shoplift for the first time. “You fucking serious? I haven’t pulled any shit like that in years. How we doing this, Gallagher?”

Ian giggles like a fifteen-year-old girl. “I was thinking we could play on the table next to them and be two dramatic dumb as fuck gays who can’t play for shit. Then I think we just wing it from there depending on how they react. You up for that, Milkovich?”

Being called Milkovich for the first time in eight years almost sobers him up. “I’m up for that. I’m gonna give you an Oscar worthy performance so keep your shit together.”

They head over to the pool tables and Ian gets into character straight away. Stripping off his jacket and grabbing a cue stick, he looks Mickey up and down before announcing loudly, “Baby, wait to you see how good I’ve gotten with my stick.” If he wasn’t salivating from Ian’s body, he would have laughed his fucking ass off—Ian has one hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised suggestively as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Grabbing a cue stick for himself, he moves in behind Ian then announces just as loudly, “Honey, wait til you see how I handle these balls.” He then slaps Ian on his ass before racking up the balls to start. The two fuckwits are already laughing at them. This is going to be like taking money from a baby. Ian is still giggling at getting his ass slapped and Mickey wonders how much of it is an act.

They start playing—if that’s what you’d call it—praising each other excessively when one of them finally sinks a ball. At one point, Ian pretends to break a nail and he kisses it better, Ian telling him, “Baby, you’re so good to me. Gonna look after you tonight,” before squeezing his ass. He wonders if they are taking it too far, then Ian comes up behind him to ‘help him’ with his technique. Ian presses his groin to his ass and leans over, pretending to alter his hand placement on the table. His heart races, and he forgets what they are doing this for. Ian’s hand is over his and the feel of his cock against his ass brings back memories of being fucked hard. Ian whispers in his ear, “They are totally buying this, let’s make a move.”

Ian turns to face the two guys, “Hey boys, you wanna play two against two. We’ve been practising and I bet we could whoop your asses.”

The two dickheads look at each other like they’ve hit bank. “You wanna put your money where your mouth is?” the blonde guy asks.

Ian turns to him, “Baby, can we? Please baby, you know what I’ll do to you tonight to repay you.” When Ian licks slowly over his top lip, he almost loses it. This is the fucking funniest shit he’s ever seen, and he can’t believe they are doing this.

“Honey, I only got a $100 on me. How much do you have?” he asks.

“I got a $100 too.” Ian replies, then turns to face the two guys—pouting and innocent. “Is that enough? $200?”

The two dickheads smirk at each other, then agree to the terms. The $400 bucks gets placed down on the table and they start. They win the toss and Ian elects to break. He keeps the act up as he sinks three balls in succession. The blonde guy goes next and still seems confident—he sinks one ball—but then sinks one of theirs. Mickey is a little nervous, but he sinks two more balls before the second guy has his turn and sinks nothing. The two fuckwits are wondering what the fuck is going on and maybe cluing into the possibility they’ve been hustled.

Ian winks at him, drops the façade, sinks their last ball, calls the pocket on the 8-ball and sinks that with a fancy ass shot that even impresses Mickey. He grabs the $400 bucks off the table before a scuffle breaks out. Ian holds out his hand to the blonde guy, saying ‘good game’ and smiling that cocky motherfucker smirk of his and he can’t help but let out a laugh. Mickey turns to the second player, and speaking normally says, “Thanks for the game boys.”

“What the fuck?” blondie yells, stepping up into Ian’s space. “You fucking hustle us?” Blondie gives Ian a little shove in the chest, so Mickey moves in closer.

“Back the fuck up,” he tells blondie. “You lost fair and square. Don’t be a fucking sore loser.”

Mickey shoves Ian in the direction of the door.

“Are you two even fucking faggots?” blondie yells across the bar.

Ian turns around to face them, looking for a fight. “We fucking are, and we’re fucking proud. And don’t even think about messing with two Southside fags, cos we’ll kick your fucking asses.”

He grabs Ian by the back of his shirt and starts pulling, “Let’s get the fuck out of here, tough guy.” He doesn’t forget to flip the bird to the two assholes on his way out the door.

They laugh all the way up the street until they reach his car, and he stops, leaning against the passenger door and lighting a smoke. He takes out $200 bucks and holds it out to Ian. 

“You keep it Mick. That was the most fun I’ve had in fucking years.”

He steps forward and places it in Ian’s jacket pocket. “You earned it, take it.” Then he passes the smoke to Ian and his heart skips a beat at the ease with which they do it—as if nineteen years haven’t passed at all. It also brings him back to reality. Ian is looking at him with longing in his eyes and for a moment he doesn’t want to look away. So he doesn’t, he just drinks it in because this is a one-time deal.

“I had a great time,” he says, taking the smoke back and finishing it. “Glad we did this. Hope shit works out with you and Brad, and just be there for your kid.”

“I had a great time too. We should do it again some time.”

Fuck. Why did Ian have to do this? “You knew the conditions, Gallagher. This was a one-time deal. Don’t fucking ruin shit now. You don’t have to carry this guilt around anymore. We’re good. Move on.” He starts to head around to the driver’s side and Ian reaches out and grabs his wrist. Turning to face Ian, he shakes his head no and frowns up at those sorrowful eyes. Ian gets the message and drops his arm. Climbing into his car, he doesn’t look at Ian again. He can’t. He’s halfway home when he starts to feel empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2017**

_“Ian, sweetheart, buy whatever you want. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” Brad tells him, then pecks him on his lips._

_They have been seeing each other for almost six months and Ian couldn’t be happier. He moved into Brad’s apartment a month ago and his life is 5-star restaurants, holiday’s, and endless gifts. The sales assistant recommends he tries on the suit he’s admiring and why the fuck not? If Brad gets a kick out of spoiling him, then he won’t say no._

_“Okay, I’m going to try the Tom Ford on.”_

_“Perfect choice, you can wear it to the gala on Saturday night.”_

_“Saturday? I thought it was Friday. I have to help Fi on Saturday. I promised.”_

_Brad frowns at him. “But Ian, I need you at the Gala with me. I told you about it six weeks ago. Can’t you help Fiona another day? That family of yours always needs you for something. Always got their hands out. But I need you too. What’s going to happen if we get married and have kids? Are you going to ignore our children to help one of your siblings with their dramas?”_

_Ian is staring at Brad, having heard nothing after ‘married’ and ‘kids’. “You gonna marry me?” he finally asks._

_“If you’ll have me.” Brad walks over and cups his jaw, “The last six months have been the best of my life. Because of you. You know I love you.” Brad slaps him on the ass. “Now go try on the suit. I’ll be in to help you in a minute.” Brad winks at him and he heads off to the change room._

_Two minutes later they are making out in the changeroom. Four minutes later Brad is on his knees. Thirty minutes later he walks out of the store with his Tom Ford suit. He calls Fi and tells her he can’t make it on Saturday, but he can come on Sunday to help instead. They have a fight and she tells him not to bother if he can’t remember how to be a Gallagher. And that hits the nail on the head because he doesn’t really want to be a Gallagher anymore. He’s sick of all the bullshit, and scrounging for money, and the memories that break his heart every time he’s there. Mickey was the best of Southside and he’s gone. There’s nothing left there for him. His future is in front of him, with Brad. A man who wants to marry him and have a family like normal people do. It’s not a hard choice to make._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ian parks his car around the corner and questions himself for the tenth time today. What the fuck is he doing? It’s been three days since he and Mickey went out for a beer. A night that turned into the best night he’d had in years. They had behaved like teenagers, hustling those guys, but it has made him giddy and excited. He couldn’t believe Mickey did it, and seeing him act like a queen in public—slapping his ass—was something he was going to remember for the rest of his days. 

Mickey had really grown up, and become everything he could be, and deserved to be. He was still the same Mickey in so many ways, but seeing him comfortable with his sexuality filled Ian up with happiness. He replays the night over again in his mind, stopping on those moments when Mickey really looked at him, when they connected, when the sexual tension became paralysing. Because it is still there, between them, and he knows Mickey felt it too. And not just the physical attraction, but the friendship, the ease of being together, the shared history, the knowing each other from the inside out.

He jumps out of the car, heads up the street and around the corner. It’s 12.25pm, so he knows he could be waiting until 12.30 or 1pm. Settling on the other side of the road, leaning against a wall, he watches the door of Waterstone Financial Services. And waits.

At 1.07pm, when his legs feel numb from standing still too long, Toby Mason exits the building with—Ian presumes—a work colleague. The two men stand and chat for a while, and Ian observes. He doesn’t plan on approaching the guy, he just needs to see him, needs to know what sort of man Mickey committed himself to, what sort of man he loves. Thinking about that makes his jealousy flare, and he knows hateful, mean sentiments will surely follow. That’s what happens when you want something you’re not entitled to. 

The two men finish up their conversation and head off in opposite directions. He follows from the other side of the road, observing the way he walks, his gestures, his demeanour. When Toby enters a café, he crosses the road to get a closer look then steps inside. The café is huge and has a separate ‘take out’ line which Toby is standing in. Taking a seat at a table, he pretends to look at the menu.

Toby starts chatting to someone in the take out line, and it’s almost shocking to have a voice to put to the face. The man is clearly a nice guy, he smiles a lot, and it seems like life has been pretty fucking good to him. As far as Ian’s concerned people with normal childhoods carry themselves differently to those with fucked up ones. Doesn’t matter how much you rise above your shitty past, the shadow of it trails you everywhere.

Toby makes it to the front of the line and the staff member speaks to him by name and passes him a takeout bag. Toby obviously comes here often, and he pre-orders his lunch. It’s not surprising that he’s organised, he is an accountant after all. Ian waits about ten seconds then follows him out, walking close behind before slipping back to the other side of the road. Once Toby is back inside his office building Ian heads back to his car to think.

In the privacy of his car he lights up a cigarette because he feels on edge and nervous. But not necessarily in a bad way. When he thinks of Toby, this husband of Mickey’s, all he can see is soft—too soft for Mickey. Ian’s thoughts go straight to sex. He can’t imagine any scenario where Toby is a top. The situation fascinates him and fills him with hope. Has Mickey been topping all these years? Why would he marry a man who is a bottom? Maybe Mickey had changed, and they were both vers, and Ian’s got this all wrong. Perhaps he’s just projecting what he wants to be true.

He wants so desperately to be the last man Mickey allowed inside of him. He wants Mickey to have chosen him to be the only one and for it to mean something. Ian wants Mickey’s marriage to be nothing more than a substitute, a half relationship, something you settle for when you know you already found the one and lost them. It can still be genuine love, but one of comfort and safety - rather than an all-consuming fire that burns deep inside. Ian knows all this because he’s already lived it, and he misses the fire. The heat. The surrender.

His mind wanders back to the feeling of being inside Mickey, the warmth, the tightness, the indescribable pleasure. He wants him. He needs him. And he knows he will do anything to have him in his arms again. Where he belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay to address Ian and Mickey being "two dramatic dumb as fuck gays" - for me this is more about them teaching those guys a lesson - not to judge or make assumptions about people, especially gay people. However, I can see that it might also seem like they are 'sending up' / making fun of gay stereotypes. If you see it this way - then my opinion is this... if you're queer and you want to make fun of queer stereotypes then you can. Some people in the LGBT community will agree and some won't. I don't think it's appropriate for straight people to make fun of queer stereotypes. I'd also like to note that if we look at canon both of these boys are very masculine and seemingly proud of it. Mickey being highly amused at Cole is an example of that. Every time they call each other bitch or a pussy they buy into the patriarchal bullshit that surrounds us - misogyny and homophobia just two side effects of it. I don't know why I'm going on about this - you can only imagine how annoying I must be when I start heading towards a feminist rant.... Apologies - the scene was hopefully funny and not meant to be anything but a bit of fun (for them!) and for readers to imagine them doing it!
> 
> Please subscribe and Kudos if you are enjoying this fic. Comments are appreciated - I love hearing your thoughts on these characters/relationships and where you think this fic is heading. THANK YOU FOR READING!!
> 
> Most importantly - stay safe and enjoy the simple things in life!  
> Rachael x


	4. Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been four days since Ian and Mickey caught up for a beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks in ITALICS
> 
> I had to split this chapter into two as it was getting very long and I wouldn't have been able to a mid-week update. Having said that, I will be very excited to share the next chapter with you on Saturday!!

Mickey has replayed Monday night over and over in his head for four days straight. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he thinks about how it felt to be around Ian, how easily the conversation flowed. It was nice to be with someone who knew where and what he came from. Around someone else who had climbed out of the cesspool that was Southside and built a better life. 

They’d had fun hustling those fuckwits, and it felt good to show Ian he didn’t give a shit about being gay, that he’d accepted himself so completely. Who would have thought it would be Mickey dragging Ian out of a bar when they were called faggots and not the other way around? 

Mickey still hates that Ian developed bipolar. He wonders what would have happened to them if Ian never got sick. Would they have stayed together? Ian had been the only light in a world of darkness when he was young. He smiles, thinking of Ian at the Kash and Grab. That dorky boy with his sweet smile and heart full of hope. It didn’t matter how much of an asshole Mickey was, Ian still loved him. Well, he thinks Ian loved him. Ian never said those words and it haunted him for years.

When he was working in the prison laundry room, he would question all the choices he’d made. Wondering if he’d had the courage to say I love you to Ian earlier, would things have turned out differently? What if he’d said, ‘don’t go, I love you’ instead of just ‘don’t’? Those questions plagued him for so long, and now they were back with a vengeance. Except now he had a new one - if he’d stood up to his father and never married Svetlana, would he now be happily married to Ian instead of Toby? 

Toby walks into the bathroom and jolts him out of his thoughts. He wonders if they are in a rut and thinks he should make more of an effort to spice things up. But if he’s honest with himself, he’s never had that kind of relationship with Toby. He’s never felt that all-consuming fire with him. He never wanted to feel that vulnerable, out of control, that lost, ever again. After Ian. There’s only so much a person can take. What he has with Toby is a safe, dependable love; it’s what he wanted. What he still wants. He loves Toby, he’s the man that gave an uneducated, ex-con piece of trash a second chance at happiness. 

“I’m bout to take a shower, wanna join me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows twice and smirking.

“Can’t hun, I’ll be late for work.”

He pushes Toby up against the wall and grinds his dick against him. “So be late for once. You’re never late. I could just blow you.” He plants some kisses up Toby’s neck.

“Come on, Mick. Tonight, I promise,” Toby answers, pushing him away.

“Hey, you want to sneak into the movies this weekend?”

Toby frowns at him. “Why would we do that? We might get caught.”

“Well that’s what makes it fun. The excitement of maybe getting caught.”

Toby pecks him on the cheek. “Think we’re too old to be acting like stupid teenagers. How about we just pay, and I’ll get you an extra-large popcorn?”

“How about we sit in the back corner and I make you cum during the big fight scene?”

“Fuck Mickey, what’s gotten into you? Knowing my luck, we’d get arrested for indecent exposure. I’ll see you for dinner. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he says, turning on the shower.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**2025**

_Six months after they started dating, Mickey gives in and agrees to meet Toby’s parents. He is all too aware that they are an upper middle-class family and might disapprove of him. A dinner has been planned at Toby’s parents’ house and he feels sick with nerves. Toby’s already warned him not to swear in front of his Mom, and he wonders how the fuck he’s going to stop himself from fucking swearing when he’s this fucking nervous. Now Toby has him in the bathroom, ready to apply makeup over his knuckle tattoos._

_“Are you fucking serious right now?” he asks, as Toby grabs one of his hands._

_“Yes, I’m fucking serious. I don’t want my parents the get the wrong impression. I don’t want them to judge you before they get to know you. Why don’t you just get laser removal anyway?”_

_Perhaps he should get them removed. Part of him hates them, but part of him likes them too. They remind him of all the shit he had to crawl through to make it in this world, and he figures that’s a good thing. “You know Tobes, you can cover them up, but it doesn’t change who I am.”_

_“I know that but I’m ready to take this to the next level and it’s important to me that my parents approve. I know it sounds dumb, but I love my parents. Hopefully, you’ll move in with me soon.”_

_Toby looks at him as if he might agree right there on the spot, but he’s not there yet. It’s been good to live in his own place the last couple of years, doing what he wants when he wants. They have built a good relationship—it feels comfortable and easy—but it seems too rushed. It’s the total opposite of being with Ian, and that’s the best thing about it. He doesn’t have to live in fucking fear that his boyfriend’s going to go AWOL or do some crazy shit._

_“Toby, why you always in such a hurry to fucking organise everyone? We’re having a good time, let’s just enjoy it.” He leans forward and presses his lips to Toby’s. When he pulls back Toby looks nervous and scared. “What the fuck is that face? Spit it out.”_

_“Mick, don’t be mad but I don’t think we should tell my parents you were in prison. They won’t understand.”_

_“So you want me to lie to your parents?”_

_“Well I already told them you studied business part-time while you worked part-time to account for those seven years. And I also may have said your goal is to start your own business.”_

_Part of this fucks him right off, so he exits the bathroom before he says something he shouldn’t. Toby is right on his tail._

_“Mickey, come on, it’s no big deal. Just say you went to community college to better yourself and now-”_

_“The fuck? You saying I need to better myself?” he says turning around to face Toby. “Are you ashamed of me?”_

_Toby looks like he got slapped in the face. “No! Of course not. I don’t give a shit. I wouldn’t be here if I did. But my parents will freak if they find out I’m dating an ex-con. I needed to invent a cover story when they asked about you.”_

_“Well if you parents are gonna fucking freak about you dating an ex-con, then maybe you shouldn’t be dating one. Hmm?”_

_“Mickey don’t be like that.” Toby puts a hand on his chest and moves in closer. “We can tell them the truth after we get married.”_

_“Whoa, back the fuck up. Not even sure I wanna get married again.”_

_“Again? What do you mean, again?”_

_Holy fucking hell! He rubs his thumb across his eyebrow. Toby still didn’t know about Svetlana or Yevgeny, and he’s not real keen to share. “Look, I got married young to keep my homophobic prick of a dad off my ass. It didn’t last long, and we got divorced years ago.”_

_“Anything else you’ve been keeping from me?” Toby asks, frowning at him._

_“That’s it, that’s all my bullshit. Are we going?”_

_The drive over to Toby’s parent’s house is quiet. He doesn’t know how he feels about Toby wanting him to lie about his past. It’s not that he’s proud of his prison record, but he is proud he made something of himself. Turning your life around after a long stint in prison is fucking hard to do. It’s a part of him, and it doesn’t sit well pretending to be someone he isn’t, just to fit in with Toby’s family. But he’ll do it for Toby because his life is better with him._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

A full week has passed since Ian saw Mickey and he’s held back from texting or calling, trying to give Mickey some space, hoping Mickey might contact him first. But it doesn’t seem like that will happen, and he is losing his mind. He’s still barely eating and struggling to sleep. Thoughts of Mickey fill his mind late into the night, he dreams of him, and when he wakes in the morning, it’s blue eyes and full lips and Mickey Mickey Mickey. He feels like he’s fifteen all over again, falling in love for the first time.

Running a few minutes late, he arrives at school to pick Lucinda up from cheer practice. She is standing waiting for him and jumps straight into the car.

“Hey pumpkin, how was your day?”

“It was good Dad. Got an A on my English paper.”

“That’s great Lu. Hey, I have something to tell you and I was hoping it could stay between the two of us.”

Lucinda looks at him and frowns. “Okay…what is it?”

“I’ve enrolled in an EMT refresher course and it starts next week and goes for 6 weeks. I want to finish it before I tell Pops. You know, keep it as a surprise in case I fail or something.”

“Okay, well first of all, that’s good, it’s been a long time coming and you might stop being a moody, sad sack. But let’s not talk shit here. You’re asking me to lie to Pops cause we both know he doesn’t want you working. How about I do you a deal? I’ll keep your secret if I can have a limo for me and all my friends for the school dance.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Pops always says - leverage every situation to your advantage. Just following his advice.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t raise you to blackmail your own family. What happened to my sweet, kind, little girl?”

“What happened to my sweet, kind, Dad?”

Ian doesn’t know what to say to that. Lucinda is staring back at him, challenging him. It cuts fucking deep. Is it all his fault? Did he check out of being a father when he checked out of being a husband? Is Mickey right, is he not there for his daughter? He drops her to school and takes her to her activities and cooks her meals and washes her clothes. It hits him hard, and he sees the hurt under the anger in her eyes. Has he been neglecting his child? Not physically, but emotionally. “Lu, you’re right. I’m going to do better. Can you meet me halfway? Things need to change, and this is the first step.” 

“Yeah, fine, I’ll keep your secret,” Lucinda says, face softening. “Can you organise Jacqui’s mom to do the carpool when you’re doing your course? Amanda’s being a total bitch and I’m not talking to her at the moment.”

“Thanks, pumpkin. Yeah, I can get Jacqui’s mom to do it. Do you mind if I slip out for an hour this afternoon? Maybe after I get back, we could watch a movie or something?”

“I don’t mind you going out, I have homework anyway. But I’ll pass on the movie. Maybe some other time.”

He’s disappointed she doesn’t want to watch a movie with him, but what can he expect, this is going to take time. He smiles at her, taking in her long wavy red hair almost down to her waist, green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her face. Would Brad fight him for custody if they split up? Would Lucinda want to live with him or with Brad? These are the questions he’s been afraid to ask himself for far too long. It was time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2018**

_Ian wakes up to Brad’s kisses trailing down his body. “Morning,” he murmurs with a smile forming on his face._

_“Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.”_

_“Happy Anniversary to you too. You gonna finish what you started?” he asks, raising his eyebrows._

_They are staying at the Four Seasons in New York for their first anniversary. The past year has been like a dream—endless parties, fancy restaurants, romantic weekends away, and gifts. Recently they had run into an issue—he wants to further his education and become a paramedic—and Brad thinks it’s a waste of time. Ian figures he would get around Brad soon enough._

_“I am, but first I think we should eat. I’ve ordered a champagne breakfast and I have a big weekend planned for us.”_

_There is a knock at the door, “Room Service.”_

_“Ian, freshen up and I’ll get that,” Brad says, standing up and putting on his robe._

_While in the bathroom he takes a piss, brushes his teeth and fixes his hair. When he returns Brad has the breakfast set out and two classes of champagne poured. “Come sit. Try the champagne.”_

_Ian takes a seat opposite Brad and picks up his glass. And there’s something in it. And his heart pounds when he realises it’s a ring. He looks up at Brad and back at the glass. “Brad?” he asks, not sure what’s happening._

_“Ian, sweetheart. I don’t think you know how happy you make me, but I do think you know how much I love you. I want marriage, I want kids, and I want it all with you. Ian, would you do me the honour of marrying me?”_

_“It’s an engagement ring?”_

_“Yes. What do you say?” Brad stands up and scoops the ring out of the glass, then falls to one knee._

_A word crosses his mind – Mickey - then a flash of blue eyes. Then he looks at Brad’s hopeful face. Then the ring. Then back at Brad. “Yes,” he whispers._

_Brad beams at him and slides the ring on his finger. “We can do it this weekend. I’ve got it all set up. We can get the marriage licence this morning, then organise our suits this afternoon. I have a celebrant and a venue booked for tomorrow afternoon.”_

_“Shit, are you serious?”_

_“It will be perfect, just the two of us. Why wait? Let’s start our lives together now. This weekend. I want a family Ian, and I don’t want to be too old to enjoy it.”_

_“But my family won’t get to be here. Or yours.”_

_“I know. But I promise I’ll throw us a big party for all our friends and family once we’re back in Chicago. Shall we do it?”_

_Ian feels rushed, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Brad after he’s planned everything. Brad accepts his bipolar and that’s fucking huge. And he knew they were headed in this direction anyway. “Let’s do it.”_

_Brad kisses him hard, and he lets himself get swept up in the romance of it. It’s only later that night, when he’s in the shower, that he sheds a few tears. Tears for Mickey. Tears for what could have been. He needs to let go of that tiny part of him that still held hope. It is time to let go of his youth and grow the fuck up._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ian heads out again, he stops at a florist shop to buy flowers—he settles on some lilies because they are the same colour blue as Mickey’s eyes. He’s doing his best to stay calm; he has a plan this time, and he wants to stick to it. The intention is to visit Mickey after closing at work, give him the flowers to thank him for the night out and then leave. Five minutes tops, no big conversation, just in and out.

Pulling up outside MM Makeovers, he waits until the last employee leaves and Mickey’s car is the only one left on the lot. He heads across the showroom floor towards the office and calls out just before he reaches the door so as not to frighten Mickey like last time. “Hey Mick, it’s just me.” He then knocks on the door and pushes it open.

Mickey is sitting at his desk, head in one hand and shaking his head. But at least he’s not yelling at him. “What you doing here, Gallagher? Thought we had a deal?”

“We did. I’m sorry. I just wanted to give you these,” he says, placing the flowers onto Mickey’s desk. “I wanted to thank you for the other night. It meant a lot to me to catch up, and I wanted you to know that.”

Mickey stands up and looks at him. He can see straight away Mickey feels sorry for him, maybe even pities him, and it’s not a good feeling. 

“I appreciated you making the time for me. I won’t keep you, I’ll head-”

“Mick, am I interrupting something?”

Ian turns towards the voice behind him, knowing who it is before he sets eyes on Mickey’s husband in the doorway. Wondering how much he’s heard, he snaps his head back to Mickey to see his reaction. Mickey looks shocked, angry and scared all at once. 

“Nah nah Tobes. He was just leaving. Just discussing his reno job,” Mickey says, glaring at Ian.

“Oh, okay,” Toby says, then turns to Ian holding out his hand, “I’m Toby Mason, Mickey’s husband. Nice to meet you…?”

Ian takes his hand and shakes. “I’m Ian. Mickey is doing my bathroom reno. Doing a great job.” He tries to smile, but Toby is looking him up and down. You could almost see his brain ticking over. 

“Ian?” Toby says and then looks straight at Mickey. “Ian….?”

“Ian Johnson,” Ian replies. You could cut the air with a knife and he knows that Toby knows who he is. The surname hasn’t thrown him one bit. Mickey has obviously told Toby about him, maybe he’s seen a photo from twenty years ago. How many red-haired Ian’s are there? And how many of them are likely to set foot in Mickey’s office? Mickey has barely spoken, his nervousness giving him away.

“Mickey, did you get some flowers?” Toby asks, motioning to the lilies on the desk.

“Ahh, no. They are Janice’s. She left them by accident, so I was going to put them in water for her until tomorrow.”

“How nice for Janice. Does she have a secret admirer?” Toby is staring accusingly at Mickey, eyebrows raised, making it clear he’s not buying this for a second. 

“Okay, I need to get home for dinner,” he says, wanting to get out of there before it escalates. “Thank you, Mickey, for going over those details with me. I am happy with the showerhead upgrade.” He turns to Toby, “Nice to meet you, Toby. Have a great night.”

Ian moves past Toby and out the door as Mickey says, “Not a problem, Mr. Johnson.” 

He practically sprints to his car and speeds off the lot with his heart racing. Once he’s around the corner he pulls over and puts the car in park so he can get his breathing under control. Mickey will be so fucking pissed at him. His mind is racing, worried this will put a stop to any chance of them reconnecting. 

His cell rings and its Brad calling. He doesn’t answer but then Brad tries again so he decides he better pick up. “Hey Brad, I’m just on my way home. Just dropped over to see Jordan, he’s having an argument with Ruby. You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well, headache. But do you mind telling me why the bathroom doesn’t even closely resemble what I wanted?”

Ian has to hold in a laugh. “You said I could make any changes I wanted. That it would give me something to do.”

“Yes, I said that sweetheart, but I didn’t mean throw out the whole design.” Brad sounds grumpy but not angry, so Ian is a little disappointed. It would be nice to get a rise out of Brad.

“I didn’t throw out the whole design. I kept the rain showerhead and there are touches of black.” Ian bites down on his bottom lip to suppress his laughter.

“Well you owe me a shower fuck then to make up for it. Hey, looks like I have to go to that conference in New York in a couple of weeks. It’s only 5 days. You’ll be ok without me?”

Ian thinks it will be fucking heaven without Brad for five days. It also might be a good chance to spend more time with Lucinda and make a start on repairing the damage he’s done. “Course I’ll be ok. I’ll be home soon. Take a painkiller and have a lie down.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Ian puts the car in drive and heads off towards home, his mind returning straight back to Mickey. 

*****

Toby is just glaring at him as they wait for Ian to exit the building. He fucked up royally, and there is no way he can justify his actions.

“Ian Johnson huh? Or was that Ian Gallagher? _The_ Ian Gallagher. The one who fucked you over and left you to rot in prison. The one who broke your heart six ways from Sunday.”

“Toby, just back up a minute and let me explain.”

“Are you serious right now? Let you explain why your ex is in your office after closing bringing you flowers. Are you fucking him? Are you having an affair? How long has this shit been going on?” Toby is in tears while he yells at him. Mickey tries to pull him into a hug, but Toby just steps back and wipes at his tears.

“I’m not fucking him and there’s nothing going on,” he says, doing his best to stay calm. “He’s the 20k bathroom reno. His husband hired me. I had no idea it was him until I got there, then I put Jeff on the job. You have nothing to worry about Tobes. He’s married with a kid. He just came here to say thanks for still doing the reno. I didn’t know he was going to turn up here. It was a fucking shock for me too.”

“If it’s nothing to worry about why did you put Jeff on the job? Why didn’t you just do it yourself? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you’d seen him? Sounds like you’ve got something to hide.”

Toby turns away and starts heading out of the showroom. Mickey follows him, “Toby stop. This is stupid. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want to upset you for no reason.”

Toby stops and turns. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No. No I don’t,” he says shaking his head. “It’s just… It’s a lot seeing him. Brings up my past. Brings up a lot of emotional bullshit. He won’t come around again. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll see you at home later. Just want to be on my own and think for a while.” And with that Toby exits the showroom, leaving Mickey alone.

He feels like shit. He’s not angry at Ian. Strangely, he’s not even angry at himself, it’s more a feeling of disappointment. Not only that, he had the chance to come clean about meeting Ian for a beer and he didn’t take it.

He returns to his office, picks up the lilies and throws them in the trash can. There’s a card attached to the flowers he didn’t see when Ian placed them on his desk. He turns off his laptop and grabs his coat, then returns to the trash. A full minute goes by while he stares at the card on the lilies. They’re fucking beautiful and he wishes Ian had given them to him 20 years ago, and he wishes 20 years ago he would have been able to accept them and not ridicule it as a faggot move. He wishes a lot of things had been different.

He reaches into the trash and pulls the envelope off the flowers. Opening it, he reads…

**_Tell me if you’ve ever cared,_ **

**_if a single thought_ **

**_for me was spared_ **

**_Tell me when you lie in bed,_ **

**_do you think of something_ **

**_I once said_ **

**_Tell me if you hurt at all,_ **

**_when someone says_ **

**_my name with yours_ **

**_It may have been so long ago,_ **

**_but I would give_ **

**_the world to know_ **

Mickey can’t lie, it gets to him. He feels sadness wash over him. Loss, regret. He’s standing outside the Gallagher house telling Ian he loves him. And Ian’s breaking his heart. It took him so fucking long to get over Ian. Nights crying silently into his pillow in his prison cell. His body aching for Ian. Desperate for his touch, his warmth, his love. Ian was the only person he ever fully surrendered to. And it broke him. There are parts of him he hasn’t given to Toby and he’s brutally aware of that in this moment. He pulls the flowers out of the bin and breathes in the scent before putting them back. Then he walks around to his desk and hides the card in his top draw, at the very back, concealed but safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Please note the poem on the card Ian wrote for Mickey is NOT original! It is called Tell Me and it was written by Lang Leav. All credits to the poet!!
> 
> ** As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! Please kudos and subscribe if you are enjoying this fic! They really do help to motivate writers and make us feel valued/appreciated for the time spent writing.
> 
> Hope you are having a wonderful week, are safe and happy!  
> Rachael x  
> Twitter @dancelovermk


	5. A boy I used to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up the following day after Ian unexpectedly met Mickey's husband Toby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter!!  
> Flashbacks in ITALICS as always

Ian is sitting at the kitchen table, leg bouncing, wondering if Mickey is okay. Did Mickey and Toby have a fight last night and if so, what is the outcome? Jeff and the crew are upstairs working on the bathroom reno and his mind races through possible ways he can use that, or Jeff, to his advantage. His mind is firing too fast and he knows it. His next doctors’ appointment is in three weeks, so if he’s heading into a manic phase that’s too far away. But maybe it’s just because he hasn’t slept or eaten properly since Mickey came back into his life. This situation would send anyone crazy—you don’t need a mental disorder to lose your mind over someone you love. Ian picks up his cell and sends a text.

 **(224-711-1012) 10.15am** I’m sorry bout last night. Didn’t mean to cause trouble for you and Toby. Hope you are ok.

Once he’s sent the text it dawns on him how stupid it is. If he wants another chance with Mickey, it’s going to cause a shitload of trouble for him and Toby. He doesn’t want to make life miserable for Mickey, but he wants him back. He wants another chance. Should he text again? Should he call? Did he remember to wash Lu’s cheer uniform? He should run the vacuum around the house before he goes to the gym. 

**(224-711-1012) 10.17am** Mick let me know if you’re ok. I’m sorry!

Fuck, maybe he should call? No, he should let it go and find a lawyer. Ian opens his laptop and searches for law firms specialising in divorce. He needs to be careful that he doesn’t choose one that might have a connection to Brad. Brad works in corporate law, so it should be okay. After narrowing it down to two, he calls the first one and gets the basic rundown on their fees, procedures and so on. They sound efficient so he books an appointment for Thursday, giving him two days to get his head around what he’s about to do. 

Before heading off to the gym, he logs into his secret bank account and checks the balance. He started it five years ago when he thought Brad was cheating on him. He never found evidence that he was, but he’s kept up with the deposits. Ian didn’t give up his career to raise Lucinda and run their house to walk away with nothing. And if Brad let him run the household finances and paid no fucking attention, then that was on him. For the first two years he transferred $500 a week, then he increased it to $750 after Brad made partner. So his account balance is almost $40k. It sounds like a lot, but he knows it won’t go far when he’s shelling out $500 an hour for a lawyer. And when your husband’s a lawyer, you’re going to need a fucking good one for yourself. 

*

Thursday comes around and Ian still hasn’t heard from Mickey. He feels like Mickey is slipping away from him. Jeff has been a useless source of information, and short of ending up back at Mickey’s work, he isn’t sure what his next move should be. Today he has his meeting with the divorce lawyer, so he hopes that will take his mind off Mickey and get him focused on what he needs to do for himself. He starts his course on Monday and he can’t afford to fuck that up.

At 10am he meets his potential lawyer, Charlotte Hunt—a woman who appears to be in her 40s with dark straight hair cut into a stylish bob, a beautifully tailored suit and simple diamond studs. She looks feminine and sophisticated and when she speaks Ian knows that no one fucks with this woman. Once the introductions are over, they both take their seats.

“Mr. Johnson, may I call you Ian?”

He gives her his most charming smile. “Yes of course. May I call you Charlotte?”

She smiles, amused by his attempt to charm her. “By all means. Please tell me what’s brought you in today.”

“I’m considering leaving my husband and I want to know what to expect if I do. What I would be entitled to and what chances I would have of gaining primary custody or our daughter.”

“Well that’s going to depend on a lot of factors. Let’s start at the beginning. How long have you been married?”

Ian spends an hour answering all Charlotte’s questions and now feels both overwhelmed and scared. If he wants to get a divorce, he has to have grounds—which he doesn’t—so that means they would have to be separated for two years unless Brad agrees to waive the two year waiting period, which could see them divorced in six months. Would Brad do that? He didn’t have any fucking idea how Brad would react to him leaving. His greatest fear is having to share custody of Lucinda. He wouldn’t mind Lucinda spending time with Brad, but he wants Lucinda to live with him. More than anything he wants a chance for them to be as close as they were when she was little. 

Charlotte advises him to prepare for a battle, and to put a plan in place for the separation. That means he either needs to rent an apartment or he would have to ask Brad to move out so he and Lucinda could stay in the house. One thing he knows for certain, he needs to complete his EMT refresher course first so he can get a job to support himself and Lucinda. Ian thanks Charlotte for her time and retains her as his attorney. When he heads out of the office, he feels more in control than he has in a long time. There is the smallest touch of excitement, that maybe he is finally getting his life back on track.

*

It’s early afternoon on Friday when Ian overhears Mickey’s name in a conversation with Jeff and his two fellow workers, Jason and Benny. He wants to hear more, so he creeps up to the bathroom door and listens in. The three workers are oblivious that he’s there.

“How did you hear this?” Benny asks.

“I was having a smoke around the corner of the building, so Mickey didn’t know I was there,” Jeff replies.

“He was definitely talking to Toby?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, Mickey said, ‘Tobes, you’re blowing this out of fucking proportion.’ Later in the conversation he said, ‘you seriously gonna stay the night at your Moms?’ That was yesterday. This morning he called me and said he wasn’t coming into work. You know Mickey never misses work.”

Jason laughs, “Must be trouble in gay paradise.”

“Sounds like it,” Jeff adds. “They’ve never seemed like a good match if you ask me. I know they say opposites attract, but…”

“Looks like even if you’re gay you have to put up with your bitch being a pain in the fucking ass,” Benny says.

Ian listens to them all laugh it up. Part of him would like to go in there and have his bit to say—their tone reeks of low-level homophobia—but he’s too distracted by what Jeff said. Mickey and Toby have not only fought, but now Toby has spent a night at his Moms place. If Mickey didn’t go into work, then things must be bad, and Ian knows he is to blame. Once he makes it downstairs and out of earshot, he calls Mickey’s number. It goes to voicemail, so he leaves a message…

“Hey Mick. Jeff just mentioned you weren’t at work today. Hope you are ok and not sick. Give me a call. Or text or whatever.”

Within an hour Ian couldn’t get his mind off his fucked up crazy idea. He absolutely 100% knows it’s fucked up and yet he’s convincing himself it’s a good idea. It’s like his head is saying no, but his body is screaming yes way louder. Dealing with this older, more mature Mick is throwing him a curveball. When they were teenagers he had to pursue Mickey emotionally, but sexually Mickey always came to him. But right now, sex is off the table so he feels desperate and out of control.

“Fuck it!” he says out loud in the kitchen. He lets Jeff know he’s slipping out for a while, gets in his car and heads Southside. He remembers where Sheila lived, he’s fucking certain of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2025**

_Just over a year after they started dating, Mickey moves into Toby’s apartment. Toby is dropping marriage hints, and he is strangely not opposed to the idea anymore. It’s nice having someone to share his life with. Is he crazy in love, body permanently on fire like he was with Gallagher? No. But that only brought him to his knees, and he will not put himself through that again. His relationship with Toby is without the highs and lows, instead a constant warmth that is a nice change to his chaotic childhood and youth._

_Placing his last moving box in the bedroom, he joins Toby in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “What are you cooking?”_

_“After I finish making this salad, I’m cooking you a steak—extra rare like you like it.”_

_Toby turns himself around, so they are facing each other, “Are you happy Mick?”_

_“Yeah man, I am.” He leans forward and presses his lips to Toby’s. “Hopefully you won’t regret shacking up with an ex-con.”_

_“You’ve already stolen my heart, so how much worse can it get?”_

_Mickey laughs. “That’s the fucking cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”_

_Toby laughs too. “I’m feeling good about this. Us living together. Mickey…maybe this isn’t the right time, but I can’t stop myself anymore. I love you.”_

_It makes him feel conflicted. He’s knows Toby has felt this way for a long time and has been holding back until Mickey is ready. He does love Toby, but it’s a slow burn. Perhaps he wouldn’t say he was in love with Toby, but maybe he is, and it’s just a different experience than the first time. Some say you never fall in love as hard as you did with your first love. Mostly he’s wrestling with regret that Ian never said those three words to him, that everything that passed between them didn’t warrant Ian saying them. Toby is here, in front of him, and unafraid to say them—he has only held back for Mickey’s benefit. He takes a deep breath, “I love you too.”_

_Once it’s out he feels relieved, he’s exchanged ‘I love you’s’ with someone for the first time. His life is moving forward with a man who treats him well and he has done the same—no fights, no violence, no fucking interfering psychotic fathers, no crime and no poverty. Mickey should be celebrating from the rooftops because it turns out he’s not fucked for life after all. He takes Toby into his arms and holds on tight._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mickey wonders when this fucking week will ever end. He couldn’t face work today; his feelings were all over the place and his anger too close to the surface. He and Toby had revisited the fight Tuesday night, then Wednesday night, before Toby spent Thursday night at his Mom’s house. They seldom ever fought, and Toby was generally very placid. Not that he was weak – no, far from it – Toby always stuck to his guns. In the past, they just never had many issues where they had opposing views. The ones they had, Mickey had given into, not seeing them as worth the fight. But when Toby forbid him to see Ian, he got pissed, and the fight continued. He didn’t plan on seeing Ian again so that wasn’t the problem, it was Toby having a hissy fit and telling him what he could or couldn’t do. 

Mid-afternoon he takes two beers out onto the front steps and has a smoke to calm his nerves. Toby promised he would be home for dinner, said that he’d talked it through with his Mom and was ready to let it go. Mickey fucking hopes so. He’s pissed at Ian for crashing back into his life and turning it upside down. The stupid ginger fuck has left him text messages and a voicemail. Ian always was a persistent, stubborn bitch.

Mickey butts his cigarette then chugs down a few mouthfuls of beer. The moment a familiar car parks right in front of his house he’s up on his feet and heading down the steps. It’s been quite a few years since he wanted to beat the shit out of someone, but seeing Ian walking up his front path has got him there in under three seconds.

“The fuck you think you’re doing showing up at my house?”

“Hold up, Mick. Hear me out,” Ian says, arms up in defence.

“You’re fucking lucky Toby’s isn’t here right now. If you think I won’t knock your fucking teeth out, you’re wrong.” He advances forward and Ian takes a few steps back.

“Mick you didn’t answer my texts and I heard Jeff say you were off work. I was worried I’d caused shit between you and Toby.”

“So your fucking answer is to turn up here? At my house? You fucking manic? Cos this doesn’t seem like very logical behaviour to me.”

“Why the fuck does everyone have to blame my bipolar? Maybe I’m not manic, maybe this is just my fucked-up personality? Huh? You ever think of that?” Ian moves forward into his space and Mickey stands his ground while Ian continues his rant. “Guess you dodged a fucking bullet with me. See, I did you a fucking favour breaking up with you. You don’t have to put up with my crazy shit.”

Mickey can see this escalating fast, so he uses every ounce of self-control to do the right thing. He takes a step back, “Ian, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you right now, but you need to get in your car and go home. I’m not fucking asking twice.”

Ian moves in fast until their faces and chests are almost touching. Mickey’s heart rate spikes as he looks up into those angry, hurt green eyes. 

“What? You scared of me getting up close Mick? Does it make you feel shit? Bet your heart is fucking pounding in your chest right now.”

Mickey fucking loses it. “Back the fuck up, Ian,” he yells as he shoves Ian hard in the chest. Ian stumbles backwards, grabbing hold of his shirt as he tumbles to the ground, taking Mickey down too. As they roll, Ian’s elbow clips him hard in the face, the taste of blood filling his mouth. Ian is trying to pin him on the ground, but he’s having none of it, using his body weight to roll Ian to the side. “Ian, get the fuck off me,” he yells, as he scrambles to his feet. “I’m married. _You’re_ fucking married.” 

Ian looks like a wounded dog as he gets to his feet. “I’m leaving him. I’m leaving Brad.”

Mickey laughs, because what the fuck does this have to do with him? “Well don’t do that for me. Cos this,” he says, shaking his head and motioning between the two of them, “is never gonna happen.” 

“I’ll wait, Mick. I’ll wait forever.” 

Mickey notices the tears pooling in Ian’s eyes, but he ignores them because those words make him feel physically sick. It may be nineteen years later but the hurt, the disappointment, the fucking heartbreak comes flooding back… Ian being paid to visit him in prison. Ian lying to him and saying he’ll wait. Worst fucking day of his life. Yeah, even worse than _that_ fucking day that remains forever unspoken. He huffs and shakes his head, “Sure thing Gallagher—like you did last time?” Wiping the blood off his lip, he turns and walks up his front steps, turning back once he reaches the front door. “Get the fuck off my property before I call the cops.” 

*****

Ian is in a kind of shock when he gets back into his car and drives away. He doesn’t even remember the drive home. It’s only when he’s in his bedroom he remembers Jeff and his crew are working in the bathroom. He wants them out of his house, so he wipes his tears away and enters the bathroom. 

“Sorry guys, family emergency you’ll have to finish up for the day.” They all silently stare at him, so he figures he looks like shit. 

“Okay, we’ll just pack up and get out of here,” Jeff says. “Hope everything’s okay.”

“Yeah, can you just do it fast? Thanks.” Ian steps out of the bathroom and waits. He can hear Jeff on the phone…

“Hey Mickey, just letting you know we’re finishing up at the Johnson house early today. Client has an emergency.” Jeff pauses while Mickey is replying. “Sure thing, boss. See you Monday.”

Ian follows them downstairs and locks the door before returning to his bedroom, curling up on the bed. He lets himself cry; he’s frightened more than anything. He’s not coping. First Mickey coming back into his life, then deciding to start his EMT course, getting a lawyer, realising he’s let Lucinda down. Too many things all at once, too many emotions, too many mistakes he can’t undo. He wants to call Lip, but he’s not sure his brother would have sympathy for him, and he wouldn’t blame him. 

There’s blood on the elbow of his shirt. Mickey’s blood. There’s been too much blood shed between them already. Did their love only ever cause pain? Ian’s mind flashes through blood soaked memories–Mickey getting shot in the Kash and Grab, Mickey getting shot again after their first kiss, Terry beating the shit out of them when they got caught, Mickey kicking him in the face, Terry trying to kill Mickey when he came out, and the two of them punching each other over his fucked up brain. Maybe they aren’t good for each other. What fucking right does he have to do this? To push himself on a man that has clearly moved on and doesn’t feel the same. A happily married man. He should stop. He owes Mickey that much.

Sitting up, he phones his doctor’s office. “Hi Mary, it’s Ian Johnson. I have an appointment booked with Dr. Riley in a few weeks, but I need to bring it forward.”

“Ian you don’t sound too good. How urgent is it?”

“Not sure. Could just be life’s bullshit, but maybe not. I’m not making good choices and I’m not sleeping.”

Mary puts him on hold, and he takes the chance to blow his nose and wipe away the tears.

“Ian, Dr Riley can fit you in at the end of the day on Monday at 5pm. Can you make that time?”

“Yeah, I can. Thank you and thank Dr Riley too. See you on Monday.” 

Checking his watch, he calculates he has about 30 minutes before Lucinda arrives home from school—she’s getting a lift from a friend—so he curls back up on the bed, hoping for sleep.

*

Ian wakes up to a warm hand on his shoulder, rocking him gently. 

“Dad? You okay?”

Opening his eyes, he sees Lucinda is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with concern.

“Dad, are things bad? Are you sliding into a depression?”

It’s the first time in a long time that she has spoken to him like this—gentle, caring. It’s been years since he had a full manic or depressive episode and he’s not sure if that’s what is happening, or if Mickey has just finally pulled him out of the numbness that has been his life for years. He sits up, “I don’t know, pumpkin. I booked an appointment with Dr Riley for Monday so hopefully she can help me sort it out. Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yeah it was okay. Dad, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been different the last few weeks,” she says, looking up at him with the same green eyes as his own.

He weighs up lying versus telling the truth. “I ran into someone a few weeks ago. Someone I used to know when I was a teenager. It brought up a lot of memories and emotions. Stuff I should have dealt with by now.”

“Someone that you loved? A boy?”

Ian smiles at her, she’s perceptive and sensitive even though she’s been trying to come across as a badass the last couple of years. 

“Yes, a boy I loved. My first love. I wasn’t much older than you when I met him. We went through a lot of stuff together. Bad stuff. His Dad was homophobic, and we had to hide our relationship for a long time.”

“What was his name?”

“Mickey. He had the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. Still does.”

“Is he the boy in the photos?” Lucinda asks, looking coy.

“What photos?”

“Last year I saw you looking at some photos of you and a boy. You looked really young. They were on your cell.”

Ian picks up his cell and opens his secret photo folder—a photo of him and Mickey appear. He shows Lucinda, “This the photo?”

“Yeah, can I look?”

“Of course, I have this one too.” He scrolls to the next photo, which is just of Mickey, then hands the cell to Lucinda. She studies it for a moment, then scrolls back to the one of them together.

“You must have loved him a lot to still think about him after so many years.”

“I did. So much,” he says, then starts crying. He feels embarrassed in front of his daughter. “I broke up with him. Thought I was doing him a favour so he wouldn’t have to put up with me and my bipolar bullshit.”

Lucinda wraps her thin arms around him, and he pulls her all the way in to hug her properly. It’s been way too long since they shared a hug, and it makes him cry even more. When she pulls away, she looks at him, sadness in her eyes. “I don’t want to be a bitch anymore. I’m going to do better too. I miss you, Dad. And I’m sorry about Mickey.”

Ian kisses her on the forehead. “I’d like that. I’ve missed you too. And it’s okay about Mickey. I got to have you, and you’re the best thing in my life. Love you, Lu.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

“What’s going on in here?”

Ian and Lucinda turn to see Brad standing in the doorway.

“Hi Pops. Dad’s just tired out.”

“Ian, that true?” Brad says, walking over to stand in front of him. “I asked you if you needed to see the doctor and you said you were fine. You look like shit.”

“I’ve made an appointment for Monday at 5pm. Haven’t been sleeping well. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Ian feels Lucinda’s hand wrap around his and it almost makes him cry again. 

“I hope so because I’ve got the New York trip coming up and you can’t have an episode while I’m gone. You remember what happened last time.”

“Pops, don’t be such a cold bitch. Dad’s doing everything he can and I’m not a little kid anymore, I can look after him if something happens while you’re away.”

“Lucinda, Dad might let you get away with speaking to him like that but you won’t get away with it with me. Go and do your homework. And you’re on school camp when I’m in New York. Besides, you don’t understand how to handle Dad when he gets,” Brad looks him up and down with disgust, “like that.”

“Lu, it’s okay,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Go and do your homework and I’ll get dinner started.”

Lucinda stands up and walks towards the door, turning at the last minute, eyes full of anger. “Pops maybe if you didn’t speak to people like they’re shit I wouldn’t have gotten so good at it too. I’m sick of living in this house.”

“One more word out of you and you’ll be grounded. This is between me and your Dad. Go!”

Lucinda storms out of the bedroom. 

“Brad, was that really necessary?”

“If you had done a better job at parenting, I wouldn’t have to come down on her so hard, now would I?” 

“Fuck you. Things are going to change around here. I’m going to do better. Maybe you can give it a try too.” Ian gets up and heads out of the bedroom.

“Just remember who pays for all your designer clothes, your Porsche and your medical bills.”

Ian keeps walking, it's not worth the fucking fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is on schedule for Tuesday! I'm super happy with it (so far) and looking forward to sharing more of this story with you all.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for sharing your thoughts - you know how much I love to read comments!  
> Please subscribe and Kudos if you are enjoying. 
> 
> Take care!  
> Rachael x


	6. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new week - Ian starts his EMT course and visits his doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks in Italics.  
> Hope you enjoy!

When Monday comes around Ian still feels low on energy but more in control. He has his appointment with Doctor Riley in the afternoon, and it’s the first day of his course. The course runs Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday from 10am-4pm which means he has time to drop Lu at school, get back to let Jeff and the crew inside and make it on time for his course. He’s got Lu’s after school lifts organised and he’ll be home in time to see the reno crew off for the day. Brad will never know he’s not there.

*

The first day of his course goes better than he expected. He was nervous at the start, but he found the other students friendly and welcoming. Many were in their 30s and 40s, and he struck up a friendship with a woman named Amber when they were paired together for a practical activity. Mostly it was nice to be out of the house and using his brain, learning new things, and interacting with new people. 

As he heads into his doctor’s office, he still has that spark of excitement in his stomach. The person he most wishes he could share it with is Mickey. He is sure Mickey would be proud of him. But he needs to respect Mickey’s wishes, so when he grabs his cell with the intention of texting, he stops himself and slides it back into his pocket.

Ian has been seeing Doctor Riley for ten years, and she knows him better than anyone. She’s in her mid-50s and wears her blonde hair in a bun, but she still looks soft. Her eyes are kind, but she has an air of toughness that radiates around her. He refers to her as Doctor Riley but when it’s just the two of them he calls her Beth. He trusts her. She has tried her best to motivate him over the last few years to make positive changes, but until now he hasn’t felt capable. He hasn’t seen her in over a month, so she knows nothing of Mickey’s return to his life.

“Ian, tell me what’s going on,” she asks as soon as he sits. 

“Something happened a few weeks ago. I saw Mickey.” Ian pauses, watching her eyes grow wide. “It was just the craziest co-incidence. Brad hired a renovation company and Mickey owns it and there he was on my doorstep.”

“Ian, this is huge for you, I know. Tell me what happened.”

“Straight away I could tell he didn’t want to see me. But I…I was…fuck, I don’t know how to express how I felt looking at him. You know, right there in front of me. I could barely breathe, and I wanted to touch him. He left real fast, but Brad had his business card with his cell number and the address of the business.”

“Ian, why didn’t you call me earlier? What did you do?”

“I wanted to handle it on my own. It’s time I turned my life around. Shit, Beth, I’ve done more in the last three weeks than the last three years. This is nothing. I started an EMT course today. Brad doesn’t know about it. I got a divorce lawyer last week. And even Lu and I are doing better.”

“Okay. Let’s do a symptom check first and see if we can sort out if this manic related behaviour or Mickey inspired behaviour. Then we’ll talk through what’s been happening with Mickey, because I can see there’s a lot more.”

Ian ends up staying with Doctor Riley for almost two hours. He knows she’s sacrificing her evening for him, and he is grateful. Together they decide a change in meds is not warranted at this time—both because it might prevent him from completing his course and also because he hasn’t exhibited his two most telling signs—overexercising and hypersexuality. He agrees to monitor his behaviour in a journal and check in via phone every few days in case things escalate. 

At the end of the session, she sets her doctor title aside and advises him to focus on getting himself re-trained and emotionally ready to separate from Brad, and to put Mickey aside for the time being. He already knows that’s the right thing to do. If Mickey wants to see him, or have any type of relationship, then that needs to come from Mickey. He wants to do the right thing, but it’s hard when every ounce of his being is screaming for Mickey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2026**

_It’s Mickey’s wedding day. His knuckles are covered, and Iggy and Mandy are under strict instructions to behave respectably. It’s only a small gathering—a garden wedding and then a small reception at a restaurant. Mickey would have been happy to do it at the courthouse, but Toby wanted to ‘do it properly.’ He wants to make Toby happy, and it was Mickey that proposed in the end. Seeing that look of surprise on Toby’s face had been worth it._

_The ceremony is due to start in thirty minutes and at Toby’s request they haven’t seen each other since last night. His suit is fancy as fuck and he likes the way he looks. His mind can’t help but wander back to his first wedding to Svetlana and then it roams to that day outside the Gallagher house when he said ‘fuck you’ to Ian for suggesting they get married. He wishes Terry hadn’t poisoned his mind with his homophobic bullshit. How did he think living with Ian was okay but getting married was too gay? So much was fucked up in his head back then._

_Mickey sits down by the window and looks out into the gardens, wondering where Ian is now, if he’s happy. He pulls out his phone and finds the one photo of Ian he’s still got. The one with him in the beanie and flipping the bird. He smiles, remembering the day he took it. They weren’t always happy, but they were that day. Fuck, despite all the bullshit they went through, they still had a lot of good days. Why does he still miss him? That stupid dorky laugh and his lame ass jokes. The smile. The freckles. Everywhere. The way Ian held him; a mix of cradling him like he was someone precious and squeezing hard so he couldn’t get away. A whole fucking decade had passed. Ian could have found him if he wanted to, and Mickey could have found Ian. There had been times in that first year after he got out of prison that he hoped they would run into each other, then he’d get pissed at himself for being such a fucking pussy bitch. It had been hard getting over Ian._

_“Mick, what the fuck are you doing?”_

_Mandy’s voice scares the shit out of him, and he jumps up out of his seat. “The fuck you doing sneaking up on people, you psycho bitch.”_

_“Ah, what the fuck are you doing staring at a photo of your ex on your wedding day?”_

_“I wasn’t fucking staring,” he says, closing the photo on his phone._

_“Does Toby know you have a photo of Ian on your phone?”_

_“Yes, he knows. Told him about Ian and how he fucked me over and deserves a fucking bullet in the chest.”_

_“Yeah because people stare at photos of their ex if they want to put a bullet in their chest. What the fuck is going on, Mickey? Thought you were over Ian?”_

_“Course I fucking am. Wouldn’t be getting married if I wasn’t.”_

_“You married Svetlana when you were in love with Ian.”_

_Mickey feels his temperature rising as his anger flares. “That was fucking different and you know it. I had no choice.”_

_“You still got feelings for Ian?”_

_“I heard Ian got married and lives Northside. Left his past behind and fucked his way to an upgrade.”_

_“Not what I asked asswipe. Do you still have feelings for Ian?”_

_“Mandy, you don’t know shit. Are you trying to ruin my wedding day? I already had one fucked up wedding, I don’t wanna have a second one.”_

_“Maybe I’m trying to stop you making a stupid mistake. When did denying your feelings for Ian ever get you anywhere before? Besides, it’s not fair to Toby. He’s a prissy bitch, but he’s a nice guy and I like him.”_

_Mickey takes a deep breath and stares at his sister. “Mandy, Ian made his choice a long time ago. This is fucking irrelevant. I love Toby. He makes me happy.”_

_“Even when you have to cover up your tatts and deny where you came from?”_

_Toby’s cousin leans into the room, “Hey Mickey, they’re ready for you.”_

_Mickey takes one last look at himself in the mirror and then heads outside to begin._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ian arrives home Tuesday afternoon, he goes straight to check on Lucinda in her room. He hasn’t been 100% comfortable knowing that she’s in the house with three grown men down the hall, but he feels like Mickey is a good judge of character—even if they are mildly homophobic. Lucinda promised to call if anything felt wrong and to run across the road to their neighbour’s house. He had also been firm with Jeff, telling him they were under no circumstances to speak to Lucinda unless it was an emergency. So far, so good.

Knocking on the door he says, “It’s me Lu, can I come in?”

“Sure Dad.”

Ian pushes the door open and steps inside. Lucinda is at her desk with her math book open. “Did you have a good day at school? Is Amanda still being a bitch?”

“Yep she is. But a few more people are realising it and not putting up with her shit.”

He sits down on the edge of her bed, wondering what the world of teenage girls must be like. It sounds fucking ruthless.

“Dad, you know you shouldn’t put up with Pops’ shit either.”

He sighs, because how do you handle this situation. “Marriage is complicated Lu, and we shouldn’t talk about Pops behind his back.”

Lucinda gets up and sits next to him on the bed. “I’m nearly fifteen Dad and things have been bad for years. I’m not blind. I love Pops but… Dad, do you have any idea what it’s been like living in this house? You’ve been so sad. No, its worse than that, it’s like you haven’t been here, like your mind’s been somewhere else. Seeing you change these last few weeks… it’s been good. I’ve seen glimpses of the Dad I used to know. I want him back.”

Ian has a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t think he can speak without breaking down, so he doesn’t. He just leans forward and kisses her forehead while he tries to get himself under control. Swallowing, he tries, “Pumpkin, I want that too. Doing this course is an important part of that.”

“Are you going to get a job because I think you should? Pops is wrong. I’m getting older and I can manage more, and he can chip in and do more too.”

“I want to get a job. That’s my goal. You know Lu, life isn’t about fancy cars and designer clothes and how popular you are. I don’t want that for you. You’ve been focusing on the wrong stuff. I want you to work hard and achieve something that you’ll actually be proud of.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I think I might want to be a doctor or maybe a psychologist. Something where I can help people.”

“That sounds incredible Lu. You’ll have to study really hard for that, but I know you could do it.”

“Hey, you want to watch that movie tonight?”

Ian knows he’s smiling like he’s fourteen too. “Really? I’d love that. After dinner, your pick.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2019**

_By the time Lucinda is a year-old, Ian has got the parenting thing down pat and he loves his daughter more than life itself. He dotes on her day and night, records all her accomplishments, and dresses her in expensive outfits with glitter and tulle. But it’s time for him to go back to work, he needs something for himself and he misses being an EMT. He wants to return part time, maybe even doing a few night shifts so Lucinda will always be with one parent. The problem is Brad._

_Brad doesn’t agree, says he expects Ian to be a full-time parent and run the house—that his job brings in the big bucks and takes priority. Since Lucinda had been born things had gone progressively downhill in their relationship_

_Over the last year Brad had been such an asshole to his siblings that they no longer visited, and he had little to no time to see them with Lucinda in his care 24/7. When he ventured out to see them, Brad would start an argument over it, and complain that Lucinda shouldn’t be exposed to the Gallagher ways._

_Night-time feeds meant a lack of sleep and adjusting to parenthood meant he had to watch his bipolar. Ian had no energy left to fight Brad about any of their problems. He knew he was going to have to do something about it soon, but Lucinda was his priority right now._

_Ian suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that Lucinda being his biologically had angered Brad. When they selected a donor egg and a surrogate, they discussed who should be the biological father. They mixed both of their sperm together for their first child and let nature decide. For their second child, whoever wasn’t the father of their first would be the biological parent of the second. It seemed fair and practical. But on the day of the birth, when little Lucinda emerged with a head full of fine red hair and green eyes, he saw a look of disappointment on his husband’s face._

_Ian has already fed Lucinda earlier, but he puts her in the highchair - with a few slices of banana—while he and Brad sit down to dinner. He wants to reason with his husband about returning to work._

_“Brad, I made a few calls and there could be an opening at my old station. They are happy for me to return and do three night shifts a week.”_

_“Ian, we’ve been over this sweetheart. There’s no need for you to go back to work. Just enjoy being at home with Lucinda. I earn more than enough for our family.”_

_“But I miss working and Lu will be okay—she’ll be asleep most of the time I’m at work.”_

_“But we’ll still have to hire a nanny to look after her; she still wakes in the night and I don’t have time to do the bedtime or morning routine. Plus, you will need to sleep when you get home—so who will look after her then?”_

_“Come on Brad, you’re being unreasonable. You know we sometimes get to nap on night shift and if I don’t, I will just nap with Lu during the day. I can make it work.”_

_Lucinda grizzles in her highchair, legs swinging as she looks at Ian and holds her arms out. Ian hates the way she cries when they argue, and this conversation is heading in that direction._

_“Sounds to me like you want to get away from her. Maybe you are like Monica after all. Lucinda’s only a year old and you already want to neglect her.”_

_Ian drops his fork and glares at his husband. Of all the fucking things he could say to him, this is perhaps the worst. He gets up and takes his plate to the kitchen, no longer hungry. While he’s in there, Lucinda starts crying._

_“Ian sweetheart, Lucinda needs you and I’m still eating.”_

_Ian comes back and picks up Lucinda, bouncing her on his hip and whispering calming words to her._

_*_

_Later in the evening he sits in her room, rocking her to sleep in his arms. He knows all the baby books said never start doing that because you’ll never stop, but Ian’s never heard of a ten-year-old getting rocked to sleep so he’s okay about it. He loves watching her fight it before that moment when her lids finally flutter closed and sleep descends. Then he holds her a little longer, listening to her breathe, studying her features. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves her and he knows he will put up with a lot if it means she has opportunities he never did._

_Brad is a good provider; he can’t deny that. Lucinda will never be hungry, or wear hand-me-downs, she can go to whatever college she wants, she’ll never have to steal anything or worry about getting mugged as she walks down her street. And she’ll never be neglected. He won’t ever be like Monica or Frank. Maybe Brad is right that he shouldn’t return to work. Kids need a parent at home. They need someone to drop them at school and pick them up and arrange playdates. What if he didn’t cope with the pressure of work and parenting and went off his meds; starting disappearing, neglecting Lucinda because of his fucked up brain. Maybe Brad is right. He can always go back to work in another year, or when she starts school. He would never forgive himself if he neglected her. She deserves the world. Brad is right. He shouldn’t go back to work._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mickey has been lying to himself. 

Mickey’s been lying to Toby too. 

When did he become a liar? On Friday when he told Toby he cut his lip slipping in the shower? The previous Monday when he told Toby he hadn’t seen Ian? When he told himself he felt nothing for Ian? When he didn’t tell Toby about Yevgeny? Or perhaps when he was laying in his prison cell saying he was over and done with Ian? Maybe that’s when it began. The question was how to stop?

He and Toby were okay again. They spent the entire weekend together and it helped him keep his mind off Gallagher. Which he needed, because every moment he was alone his mind went straight to red hair and faded freckles. Was Ian manic? He seemed so on edge on Friday, panicked and hurt, and angry and lost. 

How could Mickey still feel responsible for Ian after all these years? But it’s there, this deep desire to look after him, to protect him. It had been his job for so long. First with Kash, then Ned, fucking Terry, from drugs and people wanting a piece of him, then mental illness. He should have made more money so Ian could have gone back to school and stopped working in that fucking gay bar. He should have protected him from Sammi and those MP’s. And fucking Monica. Monica who must have filled his head with so many fucking lies.

Mickey hasn’t heard from Ian since Friday—five days and not a word. Jeff is still doing the reno, so he assumes Ian hasn’t wound up in some psych ward. Does Brad look after Ian, watch out for him, comfort him through his anxiety? Brad seems like a heartless queen to Mickey—shallow, narcissistic, self-serving—even though he’s only spoken to him on the phone and heard Ian talk about him. Feeling like he can’t let it go, and worry settling deep in his gut, he heads out of his office.

*

Pulling up outside the Johnson house, he hesitates for a few seconds before committing to his course of action and making his way to the front door. Ian answers the door in sweats and a T-shirt, hair messy and bags under his eyes. He’s still beautiful, but he looks like shit. 

“Mick?” Ian asks, like it’s up for debate. 

“Came to check on the reno. See if the boys are doing a good job.” More fucking lies. 

Ian moves aside to let him in the house, eyes full of confusion and shock. “Sure, yeah come in. It’s upstairs, it’s the master ensuite. I’ll show you.” Ian closes the door behind him, and they look at each other for a moment too long before Ian leads the way.

Entering Ian and Brad’s bedroom makes him feel physically ill. It’s stupid, he knows, but he doesn’t want to look at the bed where Ian fucks his husband. Even though they are both married he doesn’t want to think of Ian with someone else even after all these years. Ian stops outside the ensuite and motions for him to enter.

“Hey boys, how’s it coming along?” he says as he walks in. 

“Hey Mickey,” Jeff replies, shocked to see him.

They all exchange pleasantries while he checks out their work. Ian is standing in the doorway, a silent observer. The design is elegant, and the work is well done. If the only thing he gets out of this is an employee he can rely on to work independently, then that’s something. After he’s asked a few questions, he praises Jeff and they exit, heading back downstairs. 

He came here to talk to Ian and make sure he’s not manic. The way Ian is acting it seems more likely he is heading into a depression; he’s quiet and introspective, a lot different from last Friday.

“Mick, would you like a coffee? Do you have time?”

He looks at his watch to make it appear like he needs to consider it. More lies. “Yeah, I could do with a coffee break. Thanks, man.”

Ian leads him through the house, into the kitchen, and tells him to take a seat at the table. Ian’s laptop is open, along with a book and a notebook. He doesn’t want to pry, but it looks like study of some sort. 

“Still black with two sugars?” Ian asks, picking up the coffee pot. 

“You remember?”

“Remember everything Mick.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, he remembers everything too. Watching Ian move around the kitchen, albeit an expensive one, is still incredibly familiar to him. The mannerisms are still the same, the facial expressions are the same, just in a mature body that’s stronger, heavier and seems to take up more presence in the room. If he said he wasn’t thinking about being pressed up against a wall or pinned down on a bed by the man in front of him, then it would just be more lies. Once an addict, always an addict. Ian was his drug in this life, and he’d been clean for 19 years. 

Ian places the coffee mug in front of him and sits on the opposite side of the table. “I’m sorry about Friday. I shouldn’t have gone to your house; I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I figured that. You spoken to your doc? You doing okay?” Mickey knows his voice is soft, and Ian smiles a little as he takes his coffee mug to his lips.

“I went on Monday. We talked it through. I’m monitoring any symptoms and checking in via phone every few days. I’ve been pushing a lot of shit down for too long. I’m trying to face it and deal with it, but it’s fucking hard.”

“You serious about leaving Brad? Things are that bad?”

“Yeah, I am. Got a lawyer and making plans. I need to think about Lucinda in all of this. That’s why I didn’t leave years ago. But I realise now that was the wrong choice—for me and for her.”

“Good for you, man.” Mickey is shocked Ian has retained a lawyer; he figured it was all talk. But Ian seems determined to change his life. Ian, who likes someone to look after him and who doesn’t like to be alone, is apparently about to do just that. Maybe for the first time in his life. Ian may be finally growing up. 

“Mick, how’s Mandy? I wanted to ask last time.”

“She’s good. Better than good. Lives in New York with her husband, David. They run some party planning business, throwing expensive birthday parties for kids. They’ve got two kids, Christopher who’s 8 and Melody who’s 5. I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like, but what can you do?”

“That’s great. Can you tell her I said hello and that I’m happy for her?”

“Sure. You got any of your siblings helping you? You’re gonna need it if Brad’s a motherfucker during the divorce.”

“I rarely talk to them. I know I told you we’d drifted apart, but it’s worse than that. I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them in over a year.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Guess I let Brad manipulate me over the years. He complained so much about them. Caused arguments. I felt like I had to choose between him and Lucinda or my family, and I chose Lu. I was too fucking young to get married. Too young to have a kid. But you know what I can be like—stubborn motherfucker.”

Mickey laughs and then Ian cracks a smile and laughs too. “How could I forget? Persistent motherfucker too.”

Ian leans forward and places a hand over his, face suddenly serious. “Mickey, thanks for coming to check on me.”

Ian is looking at him so intensely, he fears his innermost feelings are on show. There is still this undeniable physical attraction between them, this heat that simmers under the surface, just waiting to explode. He turns his hand over and clasps Ian’s hand, brushing his thumb over the fleshy part below the thumb. He imagines pulling Ian forward and kissing him hard - knowing Ian would have him flat on his back and fucking him on the dining table in minutes. Feeling the blush of arousal creep up his neck, he pushes his fantasy down and forces himself to do the right thing. “Ian, I’m sorry we can’t be in each other’s lives. Toby won’t have it. I’m sure you can understand why.”

Ian pulls his hand back and looks away, out the window and into the backyard. “Course I understand.”

Mickey stands up, knowing if he doesn’t get out of here soon, he will lose his resolve. “I guess I better get going. Thanks for the coffee.”

Ian stands up and leads them back to the front door. He is glad he came; he can rest easier knowing Ian is keeping in contact with his doctor. Although it doesn’t seem like he has anyone he can turn to and that saddens him. Ian opens the door and they look at each other in silence. So much of him doesn’t want to walk out that door, and he feels conflicted. Maybe Ian will always be a part of him, and that’s okay. There are many things he wishes he could say, but instead he settles on, “The reno will be finished soon. Look after yourself and Lucinda.”

Ian steps forward and wraps him up in a hug before he can object and once those arms are around him, he finds his own arms circling around Ian’s waist and his weight settling against Ian’s chest. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to revel in the warmth of Ian’s body and his familiar scent. When Ian presses his face into the crook of his neck and breathes in deeply, Mickey knows he’s doing the same. They are holding each other for too long and his heart starts to hammer in his chest and his body heats up. Ian is broad and strong, and Mickey feels like a different person in Ian’s arms than in Toby’s. It brings up a part of him, a need he has, that has long been suppressed. His body is screaming for more and he has to focus on controlling this _want_ he has inside of him. When he feels Ian’s lips part and press a kiss to his neck, tears well up in his eyes and he knows he has to go. Pulling away, he heads out the door without a word, wiping away the tear that falls upon his cheek as he descends the front steps. As he gets in his car, he doesn’t need to look back to know Ian is standing there watching him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** The next chapter is a very important one!! I am going to post it in two days - on Thursday - so look out for it. It is my favourite chapter so far and I can't wait for you to all read it!!!! I just need time to edit it - which I can definitely get done in time for Thursday.
> 
> ** Please recommend this fic to fellow readers if you are enjoying it - it would be much appreciated.
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day! :) Don't forget you can subscribe too (for this fic OR to me as a user subscriber)  
> As always - stay safe and take care!!  
> Rachael x


	7. You fucking broke me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up with Ian, the day after Mickey visited him at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to say strap in for this chapter - I hope it gives you all the feels! 
> 
> Please note there are some POV changes WITHIN the 'pivotal' scene (still marked with the *****) as it seemed imperative that the reader could access both Ian and Mickey's perspectives.

On Thursday night, Ian locks himself in the main family bathroom to take a bath. It’s not something he often does, but he feels like treating himself. He loves his EMT course, but he’s tired—he has to find time to get all the housework done without Brad noticing, so he’s going to bed late or getting up early to do a load of clothes or stack the dishwasher. On top of that, he has to study. He has Wednesday’s available and time on the weekend if Brad plays golf. Lucinda is helping him too, and it feels like they are a team again, just like they were before she hit her teens.

Once the tub is full, he strips off and climbs in, sinking down so his entire body is submersed. All alone he feels free to indulge his thoughts, so he closes his eyes, and lets his mind wander back to yesterday. _Mickey._ Mickey, who had invented an excuse to come and see him. To check up on him. Mickey who had not pulled back when Ian touched his hand, but instead, held onto it. He had felt the energy pulsing between them, and it took incredible restraint not to lean forward and capture Mickey’s lips in a kiss. Then Mickey’s words had stung, and he had pulled away too quickly. But he understood why Mickey had said them—to let Ian know it wasn’t what Mickey wanted. 

It told Ian everything he needs to know; his feelings are not unreciprocated at all. Mickey is putting up a good fight, he’ll give him that, but the tide has turned. Mickey had come to him. Mickey had let himself be hugged and held. And kissed gently on the neck. Ian had felt Mickey’s body temperature rise and hands grasp at his waist. Mickey had melted into his chest, where he belonged. And the way Mickey left—unable to look at him, unable to speak—told him that Mickey knew he belonged there too. 

Ian slowly strokes his half hard cock while he gently rolls his balls, finding himself fully erect in seconds. He wonders how it will feel when they kiss. Will Mickey still taste the same? Will Mickey still bite down on his bottom lip when Ian enters him? Will he moan out Ian’s name when he cums? Ian imagines Mickey riding him, head thrown back with pleasure as he releases onto Ian’s stomach, his ass pulsing around his cock. Ian cums too, stifling his moans as he mouths ‘Mickey, Mickey, Mickey.’

He doesn’t want to wait any longer. Tomorrow, after his EMT course, he will risk another trip to MM Makeovers to see Mickey. And this time he will be honest with him - none of the ‘I just want to be friends’ bullshit he’s been sprouting, but the truth. Then Mickey will know Ian’s intentions, will know what is in his heart, and Mickey can decide if Ian shall remain his past or become his future.

*****

On Friday morning, Mickey wakes up early to cook a hot breakfast for Toby. He’s telling himself he just wants to do something nice for his husband, but he’s possibly doing it out of guilt. Because he didn’t tell Toby he went to check on the Johnson renovation on Wednesday. He neglected to mention he sat in Ian’s kitchen and shared a coffee with him and held his hand. He definitely failed to tell him Ian held him in his arms—because it sure as shit wasn’t a friendly hug—and laid a kiss upon his neck. He feels his face flush with the memory of Ian’s lips on his skin, and the way Ian squeezed at his flesh. 

Letting Ian touch him was a huge fucking mistake because here he is, standing at the stove cooking bacon, fantasising about what it would be like… To kiss him, to be handled roughly, for Ian to push inside of him… He closes his eyes and breathes deeply as his cock fills and hardens with his thoughts.

“What’s all this?” Toby asks, shocking him out of his thoughts.

Mickey looks over his shoulder, hoping his face doesn’t him away, “Making you a hot breakfast.” He keeps his body turned from Toby, willing his erection down, trying to refocus on turning the bacon.

“For what do I deserve this? Is it a special occasion? You never make breakfast.”

“And maybe I should. I can be a lazy husband, leaving you to do all the cooking.”

Toby approaches, resting hands on his hips and kissing him on the cheek. “You can. This is nice.”

“So sit down and I’ll serve it,” he says, smiling at Toby and feeling like a complete asshole.

Mickey plates the eggs, bacon and hash browns, and brings them over to the table, taking a seat opposite Toby.

“This looks great, Mick. Thanks.”

They both dig in and chat about their work schedules for a few minutes before Toby asks, “That nut job hasn’t contacted you again, has he?”

Mickey just pauses, with his fork midway to his mouth. Of course he knows who Toby is referring to and for a minute he panics, thinking Toby knows about Wednesday. “No, he hasn’t contacted me, and why do you have to call him a nut job? He’s got a mental illness, man. He can’t always control what’s going on in his head.”

“What, you’re defending him now? You used to bag the shit out of him to me. I had to listen to all that, you know. It’s okay for you to call him crazy, but not me?”

“That’s exactly fucking right, Toby. It is okay for me to call him crazy and not you. And you know fucking well I was venting when I told you. I needed to, to get over him.”

Toby stands up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. “So now you’re telling me you weren’t over him when we were living together.”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Sit the fuck down Toby, you know that’s not true and not what I meant.”

“You sure you’re over him now?” Toby challenges.

“It’s been nineteen fucking years Toby! Wouldn’t have gotten married if I wasn’t.”

“Well things haven’t been the same since he re-surfaced.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Toby. I told you, it just brought up some shit seeing him. From my past. You know I’ve been having nightmares about Terry again and I’m on edge.”

“Well then talk to me about it. Don’t shut me out.”

“It’s hard, but I’ll try. Now sit down and eat.” 

Toby sits back down, but Mickey is pissed, wondering why he ever told him about Ian’s bipolar. He should have kept that shit to himself.

Mickey thinks the conversation is done then Toby says, “That photo of him really doesn’t do him justice. When you talked about him you didn’t let on how hot he was, or how masculine he was. He could pass as straight.”

“Toby, what’s your fucking point here? _I_ pass as straight. And if you think he’s so hot, why don’t you date him?” Mickey knows he’s being a fucking asshole, but his patience is wearing thin.

“I think you know what my point is Mick.”

Toby looks him dead in the eye, and he sees fear on his husband’s face. “Well it’s a stupid fucking point. He’s not that hot. A fucking dork if you ask me. His skin's too pale and his hair’s too red.” The lies just keep on coming. Every time he opens his mouth these days, lies just pour out. “Hey, is your work BBQ this Sunday?” he says, trying to change the subject. 

“Yeah, we have to be there at one,” Toby replies, looking at him sourly.

*****

Ian waits in the MM Makeovers parking lot until the last employee has left. While waiting he’d left voicemails for both Lip and Fiona, texted Lucinda to let her know to order dinner, and texted Brad to say he’d gone out for a drink with his friend Jordan. He hopes Lip or Fi might consider phoning him back. 

Ian knows very well he promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, but it feels different from the previous times. He feels different—more certain of his motivations, clearer about his intentions, and 100% sure that Mickey still cares for him, even if it’s buried deep.

When he steps into Mickey’s office, there is no reaction from him, as if he is expected. Mickey looks up at him and their eyes connect. 

“Ian, maybe it was wrong of me to visit you on Wednesday. You know I don’t want to fight you on this.”

“I know, Mick. Just hear me out. Then if you still don’t want me in your life, I’ll go and I’m not bullshitting like last time. I mean it.” Ian speaks calmly, watching Mickey get up from his chair, move out from his desk and stand in front of him.

“Okay, well say what you gotta say.”

Ian’s legs are shaking as he prepares to bare his soul. He should have done it years ago—told Mickey how much he loved him, how he’d always loved him, even when they were just banging at the Kash and Grab. “Mickey, the truth is I still want you. I know it’s wrong and I shouldn’t have been coming here or showed up at your house. But I… Mickey, I always loved you. I still love you.”

Mickey closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then takes a step back and holds his hands up in front of him. “Ian. Stop. Don’t say anything else and make it any worse. You don’t love me. You’re in love with the past. With the idea of being in love.”

Ian can see Mickey is struggling to contain his emotions and he’s not sure if it’s anger or fear or frustration, but he pushes on anyway, “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong, Mick. Not a single day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you.” His voice is quivering, and Mickey is refusing to look at him.

“Ian, this has got to stop.” Mickey suddenly looks up at him, determination and resolve in his eyes. “You can’t keep coming around here. You’re acting like a bored housewife. What happened to you? You used to have dreams.”

Ian hears those words, and it’s like all the warmth drains out of his body and he turns to stone. Then the screaming in his head starts. Violent, blood-curdling screams that make him feel like he’s shattering. Splintering. _What happened to me? What fucking happened? I got fucking bipolar. It fucking ruined my life. Fucking ruined us._ He’s on the verge of tears and he needs to get out, he’s suffocating. It’s too fucking much. “Fuck you Mickey,” he spits out, hatred spewing from his gut. Then he’s going. Needs to get away. Far, far away.

*****

Once Ian exits his office Mickey turns and slams his fist straight through the wall; so fucking torn, and full of hate and love and hate and regret. How dare Ian tell him he loves him. Now! When it’s too fucking late. The motherfucking asshole. _Fuck you, Gallagher. Fuck you!_ He paces, his hand throbbing.

Mickey knows what he said was wrong. He knows he hurt Ian in the worst possible way, rubbing in the mistake of marrying Brad. Feeling regret wash over him, he bolts for the parking lot, crashing outside to find Ian opening his car door. “Ian. I’m sorry,” he yells across the lot as he strides towards him. “That was fucking harsh. Ian, stop. I shouldn’t have said that.” When he reaches Ian, he sees tears rolling down his face, and a deep hurt in those green eyes that he loves.

“Yeah Mickey, I had dreams once upon a time. I wanted to be an officer in the army if you remember. Then you agreed to marry Svetlana even though I begged you not to. And I felt like I had no choice but to leave.” Ian wipes aggressively at his tears. “I couldn’t stay there and watch you play happy families. I couldn’t live knowing she got to sleep next to you and I didn’t.”

“Ian, it was your choice to leave. I never wanted you to go and you know it,” he implores.

“Fuck you, Mickey. You could have - you fucking should have - asked me to stay. You only had to say don’t go! You knew how much I loved you.” Ian slumps back against his car, looking defeated. “You fucking broke me, Mick. Something snapped inside my head the day you married her.” 

Mickey feels the anger rip through him hearing those words and he yells, “Don’t go fucking blaming me for your mental illness. That shit’s not on me.” But it is, isn’t it? It is on him. Ian left a sweet, beautiful boy and came back a broken young man. Because of what Mickey did to him. Because of what Mickey denied him. He’s carried this guilt for so many years.

“Don’t be so fucking naïve!” Ian spits back, lifting himself off the car and walking right up to him. “Take some blame for what you put me through. You gonna let yourself off the hook for beating the shit out of me too?” Ian shoves him hard in the chest. “If I hadn’t fallen in love with you, my life might have been fucking different. I might have been happy.” Ian’s anger escalates, and he screams, “Sometimes I wish I never laid fucking eyes on you, Mickey Milkovich!”

*****

Mickey comes at him so fast he doesn’t have time to react. There is an explosion of pain as Mickey’s fist connects with his face, but all he feels is love. All he wants is for Mickey to feel something, anything, for him. Even if it’s only hatred, it’s better than nothing. Ian stumbles backwards, vision blurring. He puts his hands up in self-defence, deflecting another punch, then surges forward, landing one of his own straight into Mickey’s stomach. It floods his body with adrenaline, and he feels fucking alive. He hasn’t felt this alive in so long. They push and shove and scream obscenities at each other until Mickey yells, “Fucking stop, Ian.” 

They step back from each other, out of breath and wobbly, no longer teenage boys accustomed to getting in fights. Mickey looks shocked and dazed, blue eyes staring wide-eyed at him in confusion.

“Mickey, I didn’t mean it,” he says, full of sorrow. “I don’t regret one single minute of time I spent with you.”

“Fucking come here,” Mickey says, voice breaking with emotion as he steps forward and crashes their lips together.

Ian can barely stand, his body on fire as Mickey licks into his mouth. There is greed and desperation as their lips move against each other. He holds Mickey’s face and grasps at his ass, pulling their bodies hard against each other. He’s waited years to have this again, and it’s so much better than he ever imagined. He’s throbbing hard in his pants and he can feel Mickey’s cock pushing into his thigh.

He turns them and walks Mickey back against his car, pressing his leg between Mickey’s and kissing down his neck. Mickey lets out a deep moan as he licks and bites at him. Ian whines, “oh fuck Mickey” as he ruts hard against him. Latching his lips back onto Mickey’s he sucks on his lower lip before swirling their tongues together again. But it’s not enough, so he pulls Mickey forward, unbuckles his belt to loosen his pants and slides a hand into his boxers—first squeezing a butt cheek and then sliding his middle finger down Mickey’s crack. They are rubbing shamelessly against each other, moaning into each other’s mouths when he finds, then strokes in circles over Mickey’s hole. Mickey palms at his cock through his jeans and he wonders if he’s going to cum with the pleasure of it all. 

“Mickey, oh Mick, I love you so fucking much.”

Mickey pulls away from him so fast, he thinks they have been caught.

“Ian, fuck, I’m sorry. Fuck. This was a mistake. Shit, I’m sorry. You gotta go, I gotta go.”

Mickey strides away from him. He watches, confused for a few seconds, before he takes off after him, “Mickey, what happened? Wait.”

Mickey reaches the door to the showroom, entering and locking it from the inside. Ian tries the handle, shaking the door. “Mickey? Open it. Let’s talk.”

Mickey’s blue eyes stare up at him, filled with fear. Mickey shakes his head ‘no’ and then turns away from him, heading into the darkness of the showroom. 

“Mickey,” he yells again, knowing full well Mickey won’t come back.

He walks on unsteady legs back to his car, his body still tingling with the echo of arousal, his heart full of love and his head filled with fear.

*****

Mickey sits in his office chair, staring at the hole he punched in the wall. He’s shaking. It’s getting late and if he doesn’t get home, soon, Toby will call. Picking up his cell, he sends a text to Toby telling him he’s been held up on a client call and will be home soon. Then he gets up and moves a poster over the hole so no-one will see it. After straightening his clothes and fixing his hair, he grabs his things and heads over to the front door. Ian’s car is gone.

Fifteen minutes later, outside his house, he checks his face in the rear-view mirror, takes a few deep breaths to steady himself and gets out of his car. When he enters the house, he can see Toby is in the kitchen. “Hey Tobes, I’m home,” he calls out.

“Hey hun, I just ordered pizza. Should be here in 30.”

“Okay, I’m gonna grab a shower real quick. I helped Sam’s team out today and I fucking stink.”

“Kay,” Toby replies when he’s already half-way up the stairs.

He almost collapses once he’s in the bathroom, shocked that he hasn’t been caught already. After turning on the shower, he strips his clothes. He can smell Ian all over him; like his scent has burrowed under his skin. There are red marks on his neck where Ian has licked and bitten him. Hopefully they will fade while he’s in the shower. His stomach is tender from the punch and he will have a bruise by tomorrow, and his knuckles are red, but fortunately not split. More lies for him to concoct.

Stepping in, the hot water is a godsend. He needs to wash Ian off, but his mind wants to replay what happened. He needs to make sense of it. It wasn’t Ian that started it, it was him. Mickey touches his lips; they are still tender and feel swollen. Closing his eyes, he remembers the heat of Ian’s mouth as their tongues slid against each other. No one had ever kissed him like Ian did. Ian’s kisses consumed him. Maybe it was because he had denied himself those lips for so long when he was young or maybe their lips were just meant for each other. 

He lathers soap over his chest and then down over his cock as images keep flooding his mind… Ian pressing him against the car, Ian’s cock so hard for him, Ian cradling his head as they moaned into each other’s mouths. Mickey strokes his cock, desperate for relief, more turned on than he’s felt in years. He stops to lather his hand with more soap, then finds his hole and pushes a finger in while increasing the speed on his throbbing cock. He cums so hard he paints the shower wall, his orgasm coming in deep, long pulses. 

Collapsing down to the floor of the shower, guilt pushes in as the pleasure fades. What the fuck is he going to do? How can he go downstairs and eat pizza and pretend nothing happened? Pretend, he didn’t just break his marriage vows. Pretend he doesn’t have feelings for another man.

Mickey lets himself cry as he remembers Ian saying ‘I still love you’—green eyes full of hope and desire. And truth. Because Mickey knows Ian, and Mickey knows when Ian is lying. And he was not.

*

Later in the evening, Toby leans over and kisses just below his ear, then whispers, “You in the mood? Want you so bad tonight.”

Mickey feels the signs of panic, his mind considering if he should, or can, say no. They haven’t had much sex because of the arguing, and he’s scared saying no will lead to more suspicion.

“Mickey, it’s been a while. Need you,” Toby coaxes, palming his cock and kissing down his neck.

“Of course,” he says, turning to kiss Toby on the lips. He feels sick. He’s a fucking monster. 

“Okay, I’ll go get ready then.”

A couple of hours later Mickey suggests doggy or reverse cowboy because he’s worried his face will betray him. They normally stick to missionary, cowboy, and spoon fucking because Toby loves those positions. Their sex life is never spontaneous; Toby won’t risk fucking without douching first. He can respect that; not everyone’s body functions the same way. 

Mickey manhandles Toby onto his hands and knees and slaps his ass lightly. Toby giggles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Only if you do it light, hun.”

With his cock already lubed, he spreads Toby’s ass cheeks and pushes in. 

As he thrusts slowly, his mind wanders, unable to stop himself from questioning his choices anymore…

In the beginning Toby assumed he was a top because he’d told him about fucking guys in juvie. He didn’t know he would end up dating Toby, and he had been topping for years in prison, so he didn’t really mind. Then it got awkward. He finally confessed he preferred to bottom after three months. They talked it over, Toby saying he didn’t enjoy topping, but he’d make an effort. Toby tried for a few months, but then Mickey ended up topping most of the time from then on. They tried a double-ended dildo and Toby thought it was too kinky. They tried toys so he could have something up his ass while he was fucking, but then he got too focused on his own ass. Eventually it settled into a routine with him topping and Toby giving him special occasion fucks—his birthday, Christmas, their anniversary, on holiday. It was a trade-off he had been willing to make. Toby sucked his cock like a pro, and he had daily orgasm’s. His sex life wasn’t perfect, but he had a good stable relationship that made up for it. 

As he hears Toby near his orgasm, he pumps harder, shamefully thinking of how it felt to have Ian inside him. The truth is, bottoming leaves him open and vulnerable and he doesn’t mean physically. He gave everything to Ian, surrendered his body and soul, and he made the choice not to go there again. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but it’s clear to him now that’s what he did. Once Toby climaxes he pushes himself over the edge with a memory of Ian fucking him hard. He tries not to imagine the Ian he knows now. That seems to cross a line.

As they settle down to sleep, fantasies of being held down by Ian’s strong muscular arms, that light beard grazing between his ass cheeks, that cock filling him up, and Ian’s cum claiming him from the inside, have him hard again. When he hears Toby’s breathing change, and knows he’s asleep, he slips out of bed and makes his way downstairs.

In their guest bedroom, under the bed, is a box. He pulls it out and removes the lube and the 9-inch dildo. His cock is leaking when he begins to fuck himself with the toy, all the while imagining it’s Ian inside him. Ian, who makes him feel too much. Ian, who takes away his control. Ian, who is the only man that makes him feel truly free.

He cums with a tear falling down his face, his heart aching for something he lost long ago, and whispering ‘Ian’ over and over into the silence of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write (so far) so I hope you all 'enjoyed' it!
> 
> Next chapter will be Tuesday.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!!  
> Take care!  
> Rachael x


	8. Between somewhere and nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up with Ian straight after he leaves MM Makovers after his altercation with Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks are in Italics. (I think these MAY be the last flashbacks.)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Ian doesn’t go home but instead drives to Jordan’s house. Jordan is one of his few friends—Brad having angered most of his friends so many times they gave up on him. They have some ‘mutual’ friends, but by that he means they are Brad’s friends. He isn’t close with Jordan; they are gym buddies and go out for a beer occasionally. Jordan has been trying to get him to leave Brad for two years, so Ian knows he can trust him in that regard.

He stays at Jordan’s for an hour, going over the story he fabricates to explain his black eye. Jordan is happy to cover for him and finds it hilarious that he’s had a physical fight with an ex. Ian decides to tell Brad he got in a scuffle outside the bar when a dude called him a faggot. It’s feasible, and that’s all that matters at this point. Jordan’s wife gives him an ice pack, which helps, and it doesn’t look as bad as it feels. Ian’s almost certain Mickey went easy on him. And let’s face it, he deserves what he got and more.

On the drive home, he finally lets himself replay what happened. Surprisingly, the overriding emotion is excitement. He knows it shouldn’t be because Mickey will run from him again, but nothing can take away the euphoria of kissing Mickey after all these years. Blood rushes to his cock again, and his body floods with heat just reliving it in his mind. If Mickey hadn’t stopped it, he would have fucked Mickey on the hood of his Porsche right there in the parking lot. His desire to be inside Mickey is driving him to the point of insanity. In his mind, he feels certain Mickey will return to him, will be his, the moment he enters him. Cums inside him. Claims him. Ian knows it’s primal, and a fucked-up way to think, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

He doesn’t care about their argument anymore—most of that shit needed to be said and it’s out there now, it needed to come out, regardless of how ugly it is. If he gets Mickey back, they will need to face their past, own all the shit they’ve done to each other. He’s ready for it. He welcomes it. God, he feels so alive; his body is tingling, his mind is alert, and his heart won’t stop pounding out of his chest. He decides to back off for a few days because he believes Mickey will come to him. And it needs to be Mickey’s choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**_2022_ **

_When Lucinda is nearly three, Ian cycles through a brief manic period and then descends into depression._

_When he finally finds his way back, after a change in meds and three weeks in bed, he is faced with a very unhappy husband. Now they have a child, it appears Ian’s mental health is a huge inconvenience. Brad complains about what Ian has put him through—having to take time off work to care for Lucinda, that Ian caused him to lose an important case, that Ian is jeopardising his career. Ian doesn’t respond._

_Instead, he sits on the edge of the bed with Lucinda in his lap, attached to him like a monkey. She smells like strawberry bubble bath and it makes him smile. He worries he’s damaged her, scared her, let her down. Abandoned her. Brad keeps complaining, but he shuts out the words as he brushes the hair off Lucinda’s forehead. They rub noses. Lucinda giggles so he does it again._

_“I love you, pumpkin,” he whispers to her._

_“I wuv you, Daddy. Are you better?”_

_“Still tired but getting better. I’m sorry.”_

_Lucinda holds his face in her tiny hands then plants a smoochy kiss on his lips. “I missed you,” she whispers, eyes wide and serious._

_Brad has gone into the ensuite, but Ian knows he hasn’t finished his verbal tirade._

_“I missed you too,” he says, “Let’s play with your dolls today.”_

_Lucinda twists his head and puts her mouth to his ear, which means it’s a secret. “Goody goody cos Pops won’t pway wif me.”_

_It’s not news, but it would have been nice for Brad to make an effort while he was bed bound. “Well I will, it’s my favourite thing to do” he says, forcing his lips to smile for his little girl._

_“Daddy, you stinky!” she says, holding her nose closed._

_He laughs. The honesty of children is priceless. “I am. I’m going to have a shower and then we can play. Have you had breakfast?”_

_“Yep I had cereal. I get my dolls ready.” Lucinda climbs off his lap and runs out of the room. She’s so smart and Ian is so proud of her. She knows some letters and her numbers to ten, and her conversation skills are amazing for her age. He feels like he’s doing something right._

_Brad comes into the room and starts straight back in. “How was I supposed to explain to the ‘partners’ that my husband was lying in bed for weeks on end and couldn’t make it to dinner? Do you know how fucking embarrassing it was to attend that dinner on my own? I’m under enough scrutiny being a fag, it’s important I come across as a happily married family man if I’m ever going to make partner.”_

_Ian just stares at the wall._

_“Do you fucking care about anyone other than yourself?”_

_Ian turns to glare at Brad, “I fucking care about our daughter.”_

_“Just not enough to get out of fucking bed and look after her. I’m going to find you a better doctor. We can’t have this shit happening again. And I don’t think we should have another child. It’s obvious one is too much for you.” Brad looks him up and down, assessing him, judging him, then leaves for work._

_Ian gets himself up off the bed and makes his way into the bathroom. He sees a whole different side to Brad now. Perhaps the signs had always been there, but he had been too caught up in the romance of it all. All the glitz and glam had been a deflection so he wouldn’t see what was really happening. Ian was Brad’s possession, his plaything. Except, now he isn’t shiny and new anymore, Ian is no longer fun to play with. Ian feels fucking stupid. He feels trapped. He feels like he needs to make it work for Lucinda’s sake._

_No, it’s more than that. Ian has to make it work because he knows Brad will do everything in his power to get custody of Lucinda if he leaves. Brad is about control and manipulation. Brad would use his mental illness against him, call him an unfit dad, and he would lose the person he loves most in this world. So Ian is going to suck it up. He’s a Gallagher, and he’s been through worse shit than this. He’s got a nice house and a car and never has to worry about paying bills. He can play at being the perfect husband for the sake of his daughter. Lucinda deserves two parents, and after-school activities and college, and he’s going to ensure she gets it._

_Once he dries off and gets dressed, he heads into Lucinda’s room where she has all her dolls lined up ready to play. Sitting down on the floor beside her, he kisses the top of her head. “Which one should I hold?” he asks._

_“This one Daddy,” she says, holding up her favourite doll for him. “You feed her. I’m going to make her a bed.”_

_Ian watches his sweet little red-haired girl lay out some blankets as he pretends to feed the doll. It’s worth it. Lucinda’s worth it. He’s not Monica._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

It’s Sunday afternoon, two days after he kissed Ian, and Mickey is at Toby’s work BBQ. He’s moved off to the side to have a smoke; Toby isn’t a fan of his smoking and neither are all the other accountants. Mickey watches his husband chatting to Jenny, Toby’s closest work friend. He’s never felt completely comfortable around these people; he’s too rough around the edges and he drops too many f-bombs. Not that Toby seems to mind. He loves Toby, and that’s what makes this situation so much worse. Toby is a good man; he gave Mickey a second chance at life. He wouldn’t be a successful business owner without him. Probably wouldn’t have a house and a nice car. And he knows Toby loves him. When it comes down to it, he can’t imagine leaving him, hurting him like that when he doesn’t deserve it. _Fuck!_ He lights up another smoke, feeling like his heart is being ripped in two.

Kissing Ian has turned on a tap that he doesn’t know how to turn off. Even worse, he doesn’t want to. His body is craving another hit, his mind constantly wandering to sex, tempting him. He feels out of control with his heart beating slightly faster than it should. He is hot and sweaty, his skin tingling with want as he fights the blood rushing to his cock many times a day. It’s a constant state of arousal, an urge that he shouldn’t—couldn’t - satisfy. Extra long showers are doing nothing to curb his lust—if anything, they are increasing it.

Every time Toby looks at him, he feels guilty; he fears Toby can see right through him and discover his innermost thoughts and desires. Is it all just sex? Did Ian just make him a horny motherfucker? If that’s all it is then he should be able to push it down and get a fucking grip. He is forty, not a hormone riddled teenager anymore.

On top of it all, he’s fucking worried about Ian. They said some ugly shit to each other, and he punched Ian in the face. Mickey hasn’t hit anyone since prison. Ian still knew how to push his buttons, and whether it was a conscious decision or not, that’s what Ian had done. He doesn’t want to have that sort of relationship ever again. In the past, beating the shit out of each other solved things in the short term, but never addressed their real problems.

Has Ian been able to explain his black eye to Brad? Ian had already been in a vulnerable state, and what happened between them wouldn’t have helped. Mickey knows he shouldn’t have run when Ian kept professing his love, but if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have stopped with kissing. He’d been seconds away from dropping to his knees. Ian had been minutes away from taking him right there in the parking lot. Ian has been the only person in his life that makes him feel this way; nineteen years has done nothing to curb the attraction.

Mickey makes his way back over to Toby, resting his hand on his husband's back. “What are you two gossiping about?”

Jenny throws her head back laughing, “Mickey, you know us too well. We think Jarrod is having a secret affair with Alice. Just look at them, it’s so obvious.”

Mickey looks across to where they are staring and sees the two in question eye-fucking each other, bodies almost touching. “Fucking good on them, they look happy,” he says.

Toby taps his arm, “No Mick, not good on them. Jarrod has a fiancé.”

Jesus fucking Christ, couldn’t they have told him that first? He thought they were just hiding it from their co-workers. “Yeah, well that’s different. Maybe Jarrod needs to split up with his fiancé.”

“Mickey, Toby tells me the business is going really well now. Do you still love it?” Jenny asks, changing the subject.

“It’s doing great. We’ve had excellent growth the last three years. Toby says he’s happy with the profit margin and the bank account keeps going up so I’m not complaining.”

“Mickey, what would you do without Toby? You guys are so lucky to have each other.”

Mickey looks at Toby and smiles, “I wouldn’t have made it this far without him that’s for fucking certain. I’m a lucky man.” He feels like shit, even more so when Toby leans in and pecks him on the cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2027**

_About six months after Mickey marries Toby, they talk about the possibility of having kids. They look into both adoption and surrogacy. Toby decides he isn’t keen on adopting and surrogacy is expensive. Mickey has some savings but not a lot, whereas Toby has an investment portfolio._

_“Mickey, we have enough savings to either have a child via surrogacy or set you up in your own business, but not both. You need to tell me what would make you happy?”_

_“And what would make you happy, Tobes? I don’t have shit to contribute to either. This is your money. What do you want?”_

_Mickey hates this inequality in their relationship, but he loves how much Toby sees them as a team, sharing his income without question. He’s not sure he wants a kid. Thoughts of Yevgeny still haunt him. After overcoming his hatred, he had grown to love and care for his son when he and Ian were living with Svetlana. Things had been nice for a while, and it felt like he and Ian were co-parenting. Mickey knows Ian loved Yev and thought of the baby as theirs. They were a family of sorts, as fucked up as the situation was._

_But years have gone by and now he doesn’t know where Yev is; if he is healthy or happy or wondering who his Dad is. Mickey worries he isn’t capable of being a good parent, and the last thing he needs in his life is to fail at it. To end up like Terry. He doesn’t think he would, but the fear hovers over him like a dark shadow._

_“Mickey, we’re married. My money is your money. It’s ours. If I’m being honest, I won’t be disappointed if we don’t have a child. I like it with just the two of us. And I think you would be great at running a business. Being your own boss might make you happier.”_

_Mickey would like to be his own boss and he would like to be more of an equal in this marriage - bring more money home and not feel like Toby is carrying him. “Okay, let’s start the business but on one condition; once it’s turning a profit, I pay back the start-up costs.”_

_Toby laughs, “Sure thing Mick. It’s all our money anyway, if you want to put it back into our savings account, so be it. We’ll be building our financial future together. I’m going to call my parents; they will be so excited to hear the news. My husband is going to be a business owner.” Toby kisses him, excitement on his face. Mickey is excited too, but part of him still worries he’s not enough._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Monday afternoon rolls around Mickey pulls up outside the Johnson house, not even sure why he came. It’s the last day of the reno and Jeff and the boys should be packing up for the last time. Normally he’s on site for the last day of every job, so it isn’t unusual. What has been unusual is that he hasn’t been consistently onsite.

When he knocks on the door, he’s ready to claim its company protocol for him to sign off on the job, even if Ian sees straight through him. He’s also hoping Ian’s eye isn’t too messed up. What he isn’t ready for is Lucinda opening the door. It’s shocking how much they look alike–the red hair is the same shade, the eye shape and colour are identical, and she has his smile too. He knows that because Lucinda is smiling at him like she won the lottery and he has no idea why.

“Hey, it’s Lucinda isn’t it?” he asks, “Is your Dad home?”

“No, but he should be here any minute. Are you with the renovation company?”

“Yeah, I own the company. Just wanted to do a final check on the work since it’s the last day.”

“Are you…. Please don’t think I’m crazy, but is your name Mickey by any chance?”

That stops him dead in his tracks. Has Ian told her about him? Fucking hell. Mickey considers lying, but she looks happy about it. Excited even. Weird fucking kid. “Yeah, I’m Mickey. You heard of me or something?”

“Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, holding out her hand. He shakes it gently, feeling strange shaking hands with a teenage girl. Ian’s teenage girl. “I’ve seen a photo of you when you were younger, but you haven’t changed all that much.”

While his brain is trying to comprehend that a, Ian still has a photo of him, b, he’s shown it to Lucinda and c, she seems happy about it, Ian’s Porsche pulls into the driveway and distracts them both. Ian steps out of the car and makes his way to the front door. His eye is bruised but it doesn’t look too bad.

“Hey Dad, _Mickey_ is here to see the renovation,” Lucinda says, with that same smartass smirk Ian gets.

Ian looks at them both as he comprehends the situation. “Lu, I can see that.” Then Ian looks directly at him, “Mick, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well, I need to sign off on the work and make sure the boys have done a good job and you are happy with it.”

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Mickey doesn’t understand Ian’s reaction, he seems calm—no obvious signs of anger or hurt or happiness either. He wonders if he is keeping a lid on his emotions in front of his kid. Then again, Mickey’s keeping a tight lid on his emotions too.

After he inspects the work, Jeff and the boys leave, and he hovers at the front door. He doesn’t really know why he’s here. Ian’s eye is okay, and after observing him, his behaviour seems normal—no hints of mania or depression—and that kind of throws him. Is Mickey here because Ian didn’t contact him after Friday night? Or is he here because he wants Ian to need him?

Ian is watching him, soft and gentle, eyes flitting all over his face and up and down his body, and he knows he walked himself right into this. Willingly. Deliberately.

“Dad, aren’t you going to invite Mickey to stay for a beer?” Lucinda says, appearing out of nowhere.

“Lu, how about you pack for your camp. You leave at 6 in the morning, so you need to get to bed early.” Ian turns to face him, “Mick, will you stay for a beer? As a thank you for the bathroom reno.”

“Only got time for a quick one,” he says, feeling like a dick.

Ian leads them to the kitchen as Lucinda yells out ‘nice to meet you, Mickey.’ They take their beers outside, sitting at the outdoor table.

“I take it Lucinda knows something about me.”

Ian laughs, “She saw a photo of you on my cell and she asked me about you. I just told her I ran into you recently and you were my first love.”

“That true?”

“Not really,” Ian smiles, “You weren’t my first love, you’re my only love.”

“Fuck off Ian,” he says, but he’s smiling because it’s something fifteen-year-old Ian would say.

“You fuck off, Mick. I’m a sap and I don’t give a shit.”

“I’m sorry bout punching you in that pretty face of yours.” Mickey isn’t sure why he’s flirting back. He should be pissed or some shit, but he feels tired. He just wants to have this ten minutes in the sun, drinking a beer and talking to Ian. He wants it to be simple, even though it’s anything but.

“I deserved it and some. Hope you got a fucking bitch of a bruise on your stomach.”

“From your pussy punch? Didn’t get nothing, Gallagher.”

“Whatever lies you need to tell yourself, Mick.”

They both look away and take a few mouthfuls of beer. It’s far too close to the truth, and they both know it.

“Hey, I recommended your company to a woman in my course—her name is Amber. She’s interested in a kitchen reno. I gave her your number.”

“Appreciate it, man. You doing a course?”

“Doing an EMT refresher course to update my qualifications so I can get a job. Going to need one soon and I really miss it. Need some fucking purpose in my life. Being a parent is important, but Lu is getting older and I want her to see me doing something meaningful. Fuck, I sound like a douche.”

“Nah man, you don’t. I’m happy for you. Think it’s fucking great. You enjoying your course?” Mickey _is_ proud of Ian for taking steps to improve his life, and he feels like a fucking asshole for calling him a bored housewife.

“Yeah, I love it. And Brad’s in New York for the week so I can relax and study. How’s business going for you? You happy?”

Mickey knows Ian isn’t asking if he’s happy with his business. “Business is expanding all the time. We don’t even need to advertise anymore, the jobs just come in from word of mouth. A simple life without drama makes me happy. I like the routine, the stability.”

Ian just watches him, oddly in control, like he knows something Mickey doesn’t. “I get that, Mick. All I want is a simple life too—look after Lu, hopefully make a difference being an EMT, and get to be with the man I love. Look after him, make him happy.”

Mickey can’t speak, as Ian unleashes a look of equal parts love and lust. His chest starts to noticeably rise and fall as his heart works overtime. Mickey feels like a little boy playing with fire, and he’s about to get burnt. “Ian, what the fuck are we doing? We’ve already had a few fights and I fucking punched you in the face.”

“I already told you Mick, it’s okay. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“And I shouldn’t have said what I said. Maybe we’re just not good for each other. Ian, I need you to give me some space. And time. There’s too much shit going on in my head right now.”

Ian leans forward, elbows on the table, “Mick, it will always be like this until we fix it. I’ve been carrying this around with me for nineteen years and you can deny it all you want, but you have too. At some point we need to lay it out on the table and fucking face it.”

He leans back in his chair, away from Ian. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Mick you’re just scared.”

“Fucking oath I’m scared. And you should be too. But this shit is a lot easier for you, you don’t love Brad. I’m happily married. Look, I need to go.” He stands up and starts heading toward the front door. Ian follows without a word. 

When he steps outside Ian finally speaks, “Mick, whenever you’re ready I’ll be here.”

“Thanks for the beer,” he yells over his shoulder as he walks down the front path toward his car.

*****

“He’s gone?” Lucinda says from behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what you’re doing, Dad?”

“Only time will answer that question.”

“I liked him.”

Ian closes the door as Mickey’s car drives off and then turns to face his daughter. “You did?”

“Yeah, there’s something about him. Seems kind of rough, but his eyes say different.”

Ian smiles, “Yeah he thinks he’s a tough guy but he’s all heart.”

“Does Pops know about Mickey? Like does he know he was your boyfriend and that you’re in contact with him again?”

“What are you saying, Lu?” he asks, feeling a slight panic. His relationship with Lucinda is only just starting to mend and he doesn’t want this to be a catalyst for them going back to treating each other like shit. 

“Well I don’t want to mention it in front of Pops if he doesn’t know. Or you don’t want him to know. The last thing I want is for it to get any worse around here.”

“No, he doesn’t know. I never told him about Mickey. Never told anyone, it brought up too much pain. Look Lu, Mickey is married. There’s nothing going on, okay.”

“But you want him back, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Mickey is married. I need to focus on finishing my course and getting a job so things can change around here. You want that, don’t you?”

“Dad, I’m not a child, I know what you’re saying. And I want that too.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.”

Ian gathers her up in his arms, “Thank you, pumpkin.”

*****

Ian spends all day studying on Wednesday, even getting a jump on next week’s topics. Around 7pm he calls it quits, his mind struggling to focus. Not having Brad at home is a godsend, but he already misses Lucinda. He throws a frozen dinner in the microwave and then settles on the sofa to watch a movie while he eats.

After Mickey’s unexpected visit on Monday, he is confident that Mickey will want to talk at some point. He knows he needs to give Mickey time and space to process his feelings. And they can’t afford to have another fight. He doesn’t want to set up a cycle like that again. He wants to do it right this time around. If he gets the chance. Just knowing he can find Mickey if he needs to, is comforting after so many years of not knowing. It’s a connection, if only a tenuous one. 

Ian is going to keep focused on his course because his future is dependent upon him successfully completing it. He also plans on spending tomorrow evening researching apartment/house prices and availability. Soon he will need to rent a place and he wants to assess his budget. They will need basic furniture and he will require a removal company to get their personal effects and Lucinda’s furniture out of the house. Assuming she’s coming with him. Which he is after their conversation on Monday afternoon. He doesn’t plan on telling her any details too ahead of time, he wants all his ducks in a row first. Brad is going to pull every legal move in the book, so he needs to be prepared.

*****

Mickey has just arrived at The Alibi with all his employees. Earlier in the day Sam announced his wife was pregnant with their first child and they are here to help him celebrate. He’s already called Toby, asking him to come down and join them, but Toby has plans to help his parents with their financial planning tonight. The group grab a couple of booths and Mickey shouts all his employees to a round of beers.

Mickey still feels weird whenever he ends up at The Alibi. He came out here and his Dad tried to kill him here, so there’s a lot of mixed emotions. Kev and Vee are long gone, and the place is now renovated and upmarket. Mickey’s on his second beer when two young men come in and sit in a corner booth. They barely look legal, maybe they aren’t, but what they definitely are, is a couple. And Mickey can see how in love they are, and it does something to him. The more he watches, the bigger the lump gets in his throat. 

They start on opposite sides of the booth, holding hands across the table—he can see their fingers moving together, stroking - it’s foreplay and there is fire in their eyes. Soon, the redhead moves so he’s sitting next to his boyfriend. From Mickey’s vantage point he can see the redheaded boy run his hand up and down the brunette’s thigh as he threads his other hand around his neck and fingers his hair. Before long, they are kissing, and it’s fucking beautiful. They don’t care if anyone sees them, and no-one seems offended. Mickey aches for their existence. For young Mickey and Ian to have had this. This freedom to love. He feels so fucking robbed. Terry took everything from Mickey and in doing so, he took everything from Ian too. And suddenly it all makes fucking sense. 

Mickey strides out of the Alibi without even a wave goodbye.

He pulls up at the Johnson house at 7.33pm.

He hesitates on the front porch. Then a minute later he presses the doorbell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** I suspect the next chapter will be high on the word count and it needs to be perfect - so I am going to say that it will be up sometime between Sunday and next Tuesday. I don't want to give myself a deadline as it is more important that I get it right. I want time to finish the chapter, leave it for a day or two and then come back to it with a fresh eyes. Please consider subscribing if you haven't as yet.   
> ** Please recommend this fic if you are enjoying it - that would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS AND COMMENTS IF YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS STORY AND GETTING SOMETHING OUT OF IT - IT MAKES A DIFFERENCE IN MY LIFE!  
> Take care and stay safe wherever you are in the world!!  
> Rachael x


	9. I never stopped loving you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up with Mickey ringing Ian's doorbell!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes if you think you need a warning on this chapter!! 
> 
> This chapter may not play out as you are expecting and you might experience a variety of emotions throughout - it's around 9500 words so a lot going on.

When Ian hears the doorbell, he doesn’t move for a second, having no idea who would be at his door on a Wednesday night when both Brad and Lucinda are away. When it rings again, he gets up and goes to the door, looking through the peephole. To see Mickey standing there is a surprise, to say the least. Without further hesitation, he opens the door. “Mick, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t know why the fuck I’m here,” Mickey replies, shaking his head, face full of emotion. “I saw this couple in the bar. They were young, looked too young to be in a bar, but they reminded me so much of us. Of us when we were alone, and I just let myself be me. Let you be a soft bitch and I’d… be a soft bitch too. Wish we could have been like that all the time. You know, out in the open. In a bar. On the street. Public PDA’s. Wish Terry could have just let us fucking _be_.”

Ian can see Mickey is wound up and could change his mind at any moment, so he plays it light. “Come in and have a drink, Mick. Sounds like you need one if you’re getting nostalgic. You getting soft in your old age?” He smiles at Mickey, teasing him a little and making sure he keeps his true feelings hidden. If Mickey knew about his thumping heart and desperate hopefulness, then he would surely turn tail and run. Mickey’s face relaxes and there’s a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He motions for Mickey to follow him and they make their way into the living room. “Take a seat Mick. I’ll get us some beers.”

When he reaches the kitchen, he leans back against the fridge and breathes slowly, trying to lower his heart rate. His mind is racing; he doesn’t understand how Mickey is here on a weeknight, in his house. He thanks God for Brad and Lucinda being away so they can have this…fuck, whatever this is. There’s no way Mickey is here to tell him he’s leaving his husband, is there? Ian berates himself for being such a fucking dreamer, or a romantic, or whatever makes him think his life might instantly fall into place. Play it cool, play it cool, he recites to himself as he takes two beers out of the fridge and heads back into the living room.

*****

Mickey flops down on the sofa. Ian is right, they need to face their past. He understands now that they were kids, and they were victims, and he already feels himself forgiving them both. But at the same time, he still has so many unanswered questions, so much hurt inside of him. And anger. And it’s directed at Ian. They need to sort their shit out.

Ian comes back into the room with two beers, hands him one and then takes a seat next to him. There’s a movie playing on the TV, so Ian picks up the remote and turns it off. Ian is so beautiful. He wants to touch him all over, discover what’s the same and what has changed. He wants time with Ian. Unrushed. Private. Where only they exist. A place where they don’t have husbands or families or jobs. Just them. Just Ian and Mickey.

The fact he can’t have it devastates him.

“Mick, what’s going on?” Ian is watching him, concern on his face.

He huffs, closing his eyes. “Ian, you know what’s going on. And I guess I came here thinking I could fix it. You know talk it through and move past it but now that I’m here I realise it doesn’t solve the bigger problem.”

“Mick, you’re talking in fucking riddles. What do you want to fix and what is the bigger problem?”

Mickey stands up and walks over to the window. He can’t look at Ian right now. “I want us to forgive each other and move on, but you want more. Always fucking more with you, Gallagher. Always pushing me. Wanting more than I can give. Maybe I just don’t have anything left to give. You ever consider that?”

“Mickey turn around. Mickey…”

Mickey turns around and Ian is standing a few feet away.

“Mick, I know you still feel something for me. The way you kissed me. That wasn’t someone who has nothing left to give. The question is, are you really going to keep lying to yourself?”

“Ian, this isn’t even about me lying to myself. This is about Toby. Toby doesn’t deserve this shit. He’s a good man.”

“What and _you_ don’t deserve to be happy? Do you honestly think Toby deserves to be with a man who loves someone else? You think that’s going to bring Toby happiness?”

“Fucking hell Ian. I love Toby. I do.” Mickey feels so exasperated. And torn.

“But you’re not _in_ love with him, are you?”

“I’m not in love with you either.” 

“But you could be. I know you feel it. This pull between us. Still as strong as it was when we were boys.”

“Ian, it’s too late. I married someone else. You never came looking for me. You walked away and now all these years later you think you can just waltz back into my life and expect me to come running. That’s not fucking fair, Ian.”

*****

Ian walks forward, reaching out to touch Mickey, then pulls back when he sees the look of warning on Mickey’s face. “Mickey, you protected me from Terry, you sacrificed everything for me, you nursed me, you loved me, and I did nothing but fuck all over you then abandon you. I was too young and sick and selfish, and I’d do anything—fucking anything Mickey—to go back in time and do right by you.” He looks down, trying to gather his thoughts before continuing. “I never stopped loving you and the reason I didn’t come looking for you was because I knew I wasn’t worthy of you. Of your love. I never deserved you Mick.” Ian knows his voice is shaking and the tears are pooling in his eyes. “But when I saw you on my doorstep that day, I couldn’t shove it down anymore. I couldn’t Mick. I want another chance.”

Ian watches a range of emotions cross over Mickey’s face as he works through what he’s said. So he waits.

“Ian, why are you doing this to me?”

He can feel Mickey softening, allowing himself to feel, so Ian reaches forward and strokes his thumb across Mickey’s cheekbone. Mickey steps in closer and grabs onto the collar of his shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers then flattening it down, laying a palm to his chest. The warmth is nice, Mickey’s touch is everything. Ian slips his hand around Mickey’s neck and up into his hair to cradle his head as he pulls their foreheads together. Their noses bump and he can feel Mickey’s breath fan over his lips. 

When Mickey’s hand slides up to his neck, his knees go weak. Their lips are almost touching and their breath shudders as they fight the inevitable. Ian knows it can’t be his choice, it must be Mickey’s. He rests his other hand on Mickey’s hip. “I need you Mickey, please… Please don’t leave me like this, want you, I love you…”

Mickey presses their lips together and holds steady, still fighting himself. Ian opens his mouth and kisses gently, just a hint of inner lip, a hint of wetness. Mickey lets out a painful sound, a half moan half whine, so he wraps his arm around Mickey and pulls their bodies flush together. 

Heat explodes through him as Mickey kisses him back, tongue sliding into his mouth. Ian moans so loudly he is almost embarrassed, but Mickey responds with deep groans of his own. Blood rushes to his cock as he pulls at Mickey’s clothes, desperately trying to get them off. Mickey is pulling up his shirt, so he tears his lips away, allowing it to be ripped over his head, seams ripping and buttons popping as it goes. Once he gets Mickey’s shirt off, it’s chest against chest as they pant, and squeeze, and claw at each other. Mouths consuming. Skin on fire. 

He pops the button, unzips Mickey’s pants and just when he’s about to push them down Mickey’s hand makes it inside his sweats and grabs his cock. “Fuck, Mick, need you now.” He’s trying to thrust up into Mickey’s hand as he bites into his neck, still struggling to get those fucking pants off. Then Mickey pushes him, they tumble to the floor and his sweats and boxers are stripped off him. Clambering up onto his knees, he pushes Mickey roughly onto his back and slides those pants and boxers off in one swift motion. Mickey’s cock is just as fucking beautiful as he remembers and he stops for a second, shocked at seeing Mickey’s naked body lying before him. 

Mickey’s eyes are wild with lust. “Ian, fuck me please, fuck me,” he pleads.

Mickey’s legs are spread open for him, so he settles between them, pressing his chest down upon Mickey’s as they kiss deeply. Their cocks rub against each other and he feels like he might cum. Mickey is actually naked under him. Mickey’s hands are touching him and stroking him and holding him close. It’s fucking overwhelming.

Lifting up, he sucks on two fingers, gathering as much spit as he can, then licks at Mickey’s nipples as he pushes both fingers inside. Mickey groans, he’s so tight, tighter than Ian remembers. “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” he asks, looking up to gauge Mickey’s reaction.

“I’m okay, hurts, but it fucking hurts good. Fuck, Ian please.”

Mickey is rocking up and down on his fingers while he tries to scissor him open him. Desire wins out and he pulls his fingers out and sits up. Collecting Mickey’s precum off his cock while stroke the base with his hand, he then adds it to his own cock and spreads it down his shaft. He spits into his hand and adds that too, then pushes Mickey’s legs back exposing his hole. “Fuck Mick, look at you.” Leaning forward he spits into Mickey’s hole, once, twice, then lines up and pushes in.

Mickey throws his head back, a moan of ecstasy filling the space. Ian feels the room tilt on its axis and his vision blurs. He bottoms out, and he knows he is letting out these mournful moans. It’s like an out-of-body experience. Mickey pulls at him, dragging his body over so their chests are flush, and their mouths connect.

And then it hits him. He’s inside him, _his_ Mickey. Finally. He thrusts once, twice, pleasure flooding his veins, then a third time and something breaks inside him. It hits him hard, taking him unawares. It’s like someone took a hacksaw to his ribcage and split him wide open. He’s exposed, his heart is fucking exposed. A guttural cry rips out of his chest and he’s sobbing. Fucking sobbing, and it’s ugly and he can’t. He just can’t. He stops thrusting.

Mickey is looking up at him in horror. “Ian? Ian? The fuck’s happening?”

He feels himself go soft inside Mickey and still the tears won’t stop. It’s nineteen years of loss, regret, and grief pouring out of him. Nineteen years of denial and stuffing it down deep inside; too fucking horrible to look at. It’s every bad choice he’s made, every year he’s suffered in silence in an awful marriage, every year he’s missed out on being with the man he truly loves. His Mickey. Who has wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him in tight.

Ian realises Mickey is shaking. Mickey is crying silently under him as he strokes one hand through Ian’s hair and one down his back.

I’m sorry Mick,” he says, lifting his head to look at Mickey. “So fucking sorry.” Ian isn’t talking about tonight; he’s talking about the past and he knows Mickey understands.

“Ian it’s okay. I’m sorry too. Shh, shh, I’m here Ian. I’m here.” Mickey brushes the tears from his cheeks, then Ian buries his face back into the crook of Mickey’s neck.

“Don’t go, Mick. Stay with me. Just for tonight. Just stay. Please”

Mickey presses his lips to the side of his face. “I will, I will. I’ll figure it out.”

Mickey holds him until his breathing settles and his body stops shuddering, then he sits up, feeling embarrassed and stupid. Mickey’s eyes are red from crying too and they look at each other for a few seconds before Mickey reaches out, cups his jaw and presses their lips together. “We’ve got time. It’s okay,” Mickey says, then gets up off the floor and locates his boxers. Ian does the same.

“You want to lie on the sofa for a while? I’ll get us a blanket.” Ian heads off without waiting for an answer, finding a blanket and a box of tissues, then returning. When he enters the room, Mickey is on a call…

“Yeah, he’s really sick Tobes. Doesn’t seem right. I think whatever shit he took was laced with something. There’s no way I can leave him alone.”

Mickey is facing away from him over by the window, head down while Toby is speaking.

“Yeah, that’s what I think too. Stupid fuckhead. I’ll just stay here tonight and keep watch over him. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast unless I have to take him to the E.R.”

More silence.

“Thanks for understanding Tobes. Love you too. Bye.”

Mickey turns around and looks guilty. Guilty for what he just did to Toby or guilty for what he just did to him, he doesn’t know. Ian pushes his jealousy aside because he doesn’t want Mickey to leave.

Ian motions for Mickey to join him on the sofa. They have a chaise lounge—a large one—like a double bed, and Ian lays down first then pulls Mickey into his arms. They blow their noses and settle under the blanket. It’s only been an hour since Mickey arrived, but their lives have changed. They have changed. Ian doesn’t feel like he’s cheating on his husband because he stopped loving him a long time ago, but he knows Mickey has to deal with what he’s doing.

“Whose house are you supposed to be at?” he asks.

“Iggy’s. I said he came down to the bar and then took a hit of something and got sick.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that. Lie for me.”

“Not lying for you Ian. I’m lying for me. Been doing a lot of that lately. Well, maybe more than lately if I’m honest.”

They are quiet for a while. Mickey has his head resting on his chest, their legs are tangled together, and they are playing with each other’s hands and fingers. Re-acquainting themselves. Ian never wants to move, and he has no idea how he will let Mickey walk out of his door tomorrow morning. Feeling a physical pain in his chest, he squeezes Mickey tighter to his body and breathes in his scent.

*****

Mickey has accepted what he’s doing and is putting aside his guilt. It’s a lot easier to do than he thought, and he doesn’t know if that speaks to him as a person or to the strength of the bond between them. Regardless, if he’s only getting this one night with Ian, then he doesn’t want to ruin it by being caught up in his own guilt.

He does feel out of control and emotional and fucking overwhelmed. The last thing he expected was for Ian to fall apart when they started fucking. Seeing Ian cry like that affects him deeply. Ian is maybe more vulnerable than he thought. Ian needs him and he doesn’t know how he can be there for him beyond this night. What the fuck has Brad put Ian through over the years? What has Ian sacrificed to prove he’s lovable, that he’s not Monica? Mickey’s heart breaks for Ian. They have both made some fucked up choices built on denial and lies and loss.

Right now, he needs to make sure Ian knows his situation. He couldn’t bear to mislead him or give him false hope. “Ian, you know this can only be one night. We should talk and face our shit like you said. And say goodbye the right way this time. But that’s all this can be.”

Ian kisses the top of his head. “I know Mick. I’ll take whatever you are willing to give. But you need to know that I am leaving Brad and I’m going to wait for you. I’d rather be alone than with anyone other than you. I know that now. If I wait forever, then so be it. Don’t want anyone other than you.”

Mickey feels like his ribs are constricting around his heart, his chest hurting at Ian’s words. A thick lump forms in his throat that he cannot swallow, and he struggles to keep the tears at bay. He presses his lips to the pale skin on Ian’s chest and closes his eyes. Being in Ian’s arms is like coming home, so he focuses on the warmth, and Ian’s scent to calm him.

“Ian, don’t say that shit. You deserve to be happy, and I don’t want to think of you being alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Lu and I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to my siblings, get to know my nieces and nephews.”

“I’m glad you have Lu. I think of Yev sometimes. Wonder how he’s doing. Hope he’s happy.”

“Why don’t you contact him?”

“Fucked it up, didn’t I? By the time I got out of prison it seemed too late. Kid was always better off without me.”

“Hey, that’s not true. Mick, sit up, look at me.” Ian moves and pulls him up, so they are sitting facing each other. “I know you didn’t want him and that’s fucking understandable, but you started to love him, and any kid would be lucky to have you as their dad.”

“I wonder if I only loved him because you did. You treated him like he was ours, our flesh and blood, and that made me see him. You know, just him, separate from… from you know… the fucked up way he came into this world.” Mickey can feel himself getting wound up again. He’s never spoken about this shit, not even with Ian. When he looks up at Ian, he’s turned away, bottom lip quivering. “Hey, what’s happening?”

“I need to apologise. For causing all that shit in your life. I always wanted more cos I loved you so much. But I was a dumb fucking sixteen-year-old who only cared about myself. That night was everything to me. Then it all went to shit. And I fucking sat there, Mick. I sat there like a fucking coward and let that happen to you. I didn’t protect you. What sort of man lets that happen to the person he loves? What does that say about me?”

Mickey lets Ian get it all out, the tears are falling, and he knows his are soon to follow. “Ian, you were sixteen. We were both kids and Terry beat the shit out of us and held a gun on us. I’m glad you didn’t try anything dumb because you would’ve ended up six feet under. That motherfucker probably would have forced me to bury you myself. None of that shit was your fault and none of it was mime. That’s what I realised tonight in the bar when I saw those two kids. Terry fucked up my life and he fucked up yours too.”

“But Mickey, he had you raped to punish you for being with _me_!”

“No Ian, he had me ra…fuck!” He pauses and takes a deep breath. Getting it out will help, he knows that, but it’s hard when he’s never spoken about it out loud before. “He had me raped cos he couldn’t accept I was gay. Then I shut you out because I felt embarrassed and weak and I was scared. Scared Terry would kill you, or me, scared of being gay, scared of what I felt for you.”

Ian leans forward and pulls him into a hug. Mickey has tears falling down his face, but he’s okay. It’s cathartic getting it out, saying it out loud. Ian is the only one who he can share his pain with and truly understand him. “Ian, I wish we could have pulled together instead of pushing each other away, but we didn’t know any better. I should never have fucking hit you. I fucking kicked you. That still haunts me.” He pulls back so he can touch Ian’s face and lay kisses to his cheeks and lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Mickey, there’s nothing to apologise for. You had just gone through so much fucking trauma. I get it now. I understand. The fact that you kept going, I mean, fuck Mick. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. I didn’t know how to help you. I just wanted you to love me. I felt betrayed that you were getting married. Remember, I didn’t know it was Svetlana when I first found out.”

“I thought my life was over. I wanted to admit I was gay, and that I loved you, but in my mind there was no fucking point.” Mickey kisses Ian again, one, two, three small kisses, then brushes a few stray strands of hair off his forehead. “You know I still think of the night before the...before it happened. I separated it in my mind. For a long time I needed to hang onto that night to survive. That was the first time we fucked face to face and slept in the same bed. I remember wanting to tell you to fuck off when you spooned me, but I just couldn’t. It felt so right.” He smiles at Ian and is rewarded with one in return.

“I remember being too scared to say anything when you stayed on your back in case you suddenly flipped over. I almost shot my load in the first few thrusts just because our chests were touching, and I could see your face. But it was the best night’s sleep I’d ever had. Next to you.”

Mickey can see sixteen-year-old Ian in front of him—he’s still there, fragile and sweet and a dork. They’ve been constantly touching each other as they talk, holding hands, stroking and squeezing up arms, around necks, faces, chests, up thighs. Mickey wants everything he can get, and he knows Ian does too.

“Mick, you hungry? Want something to drink?”

*****

Ian makes them his favourite pasta dish and gives Mickey a hefty serving since he had missed his dinner. He fetches two t-shirts from upstairs and they sit at the kitchen bench in T’s and boxers shovelling food into their mouths. When Mickey ends up with some sauce on the corner of his mouth, he reaches over to collect it with his thumb and then kisses him. Maybe they are playing house, trying to cram a lifetime together into one night, he’s not sure, but it’s as beautiful as it is painful. They watch each other even when they are not speaking, silent conversations being shared that only they can understand. 

There is an ease to them now - maturity has mellowed them - and it is plain to see they would have had a happy life together. Sure, they still would have bickered and fought, but it would have melted away to playful jabs and gentle shoves. Ian mourns for the life he’s lost. He knows he is to blame; he walked away too soon, gave up on himself. Because that was the problem—he gave up on himself when Mickey never would have. Mickey believed in him even when he couldn’t believe in himself. He pushes the thought aside because he has years ahead to spend living with his mistakes. Tonight, he just wants to love Mickey.

After they eat, Ian grabs two cold beers from the fridge and they head back into the living room, Mickey settling between his legs as they sip at their beers.

“Do you really think I caused your bipolar? Cos I married Svetlana,” Mickey asks after a few minutes of silence. “I’ve always felt guilty as shit about that.”

“Fuck no, Mick, you weren’t the cause. I _was_ heartbroken after you married Svet, but that’s not on you. Maybe on fucking Terry. It’s in my genes. You know that. I was always going to develop it—anything could have set it off.”

“Do you have any idea how much I regretted not saying anything that last day before you left. I couldn’t find it in me. Couldn’t find the words. After you left, I was drunk for two days, passed out most of the time. Missed you so fucking much when you were gone. Made me realise how much I loved you.”

“Do have any idea how much I regretted leaving? I thought if I got out of there and didn’t have to see you, I would forget about you. It was the total opposite. I dreamt of you, I had conversations in my head with you, I would just stare at the photos of us on my cell. I was a fucking mess. Then the mania started. But you never gave up on me Mick. Remember when you tracked me down at the club and I was all fucked up and you carried me home. Always saving me. Always protecting me. Loving me. Mickey I never even thanked you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I loved you. Would have done anything for you.”

“I know. I should have done so much more for you.” Ian kisses the back of Mickey’s neck. “Why didn’t we ever talk about this stuff back then? We should have talked. We were so fucking dumb.”

“We were stupid fucking teenagers and now we’re not. Best part about getting older is you don’t give a shit about what people think and you realise life is too fucking short to keep your feelings stuffed down. It’s good we’re talking now. I didn’t talk back then cos I was too busy trying to be this stupid fucking stereotype of a man. Feelings and shit were for girls and fags.” Mickey tilts his head and smiles at him.

“And God forbid you could be a fag,” he teases, a smirk on his face.

“Fuck off Gallagher, you were a fucking girl.”

They both laugh. It feels good to sit and talk. Share a beer. 

“I need a smoke. Gotta go outside, I guess,” Mickey says standing up.

“Yep, don’t want to get caught smoking in here. Take that blanket. I’ll grab another and join you.”

*****

Mickey is sitting outside on the porch steps, already smoking, when Ian sits down beside him. It’s nearing midnight and while he feels emotional, he’s not tired, wanting to have as much time with Ian as possible. He passes the cigarette to Ian. “You know I would have come back to you if you’d come looking for me after I got out of prison. It’s fucking pathetic, but it’s true. I said I was done with you, but I would have given in.”

“Mick, when you got out of prison I was already married and had a three-year-old. I moved on so fucking fast, it was the only way I could get through the days without you. It was like a distraction, so I didn’t have to think about what I’d done.” Ian chuckles sadly. “Didn’t fucking work though. Thought about you all the time.”

“Do you have any idea how fucking lost I was in there without you? It took me years to get my shit together. Thought about ending it more than once.” He’s never told another living soul that he nearly offed himself. 

Ian stands up and walks across the yard, then collapses down to the grass, kneeling, head hanging low. Mickey doesn’t go to him. Ian needs to know, even though Mickey doesn’t want to lay more guilt at his feet. He knows Ian is living with too much guilt and regret as it is, but if they are laying it out on the table, then it has to be all of it. Neither of them can heal if they don’t face it.

A full five minutes pass, and Mickey smokes another cigarette while Ian grapples with himself on the other side of the yard. When Ian returns, he kneels between Mickey’s legs and buries his face into his stomach, arms wrapping around his waist. Mickey strokes up and down Ian’s back and through his hair. No words are spoken. Mickey knows Ian is at his feet silently begging for forgiveness because there are not enough words in the world that can make amends. But Mickey forgives him. For the first time, after all these years, he forgives Ian. His damaged, sick, sweet boy who did the best he could with the hand he got dealt. And it’s so freeing. Terry may have fucked them, but he can choose how he responds.

“I forgive you,” he finally whispers.

Ian looks up at him, eyes full of sorrow. “I thought you were better off without me. I thought if you stayed with me, you’d end up like Frank, me turning you into a cynical old drunk. I wanted more for you.”

“I know.” Mickey cups Ian’s face in his hands and lifts him up, kissing him softly at first, then passionately. They hold each other in a tight hug, Ian still kneeling on the lower step between his legs, as Wednesday becomes Thursday.

He lights up another smoke as Ian sits back down beside him and then passes it straight to Ian as he’s certain he needs it. Mickey only has one more question, so he figures he may as well get it over and done with. “Ian, why didn’t you ever tell me you loved me back then?”

“Simple answer is that I was scared. I waited so long for you to tell me. For years, I wasn’t sure you loved me. I mean, I felt it, but I always had doubts because of how it was in the beginning. I’ve always thought it was a risk to love someone. I loved Monica, but I wasn’t enough for her to stay. That kind of stayed with me. Part of me felt if I told you, you would leave me. Like if I admitted it out loud, then you would take off. So I did the worst thing possible and got in first. That way I didn’t have to face not being enough for you.”

He puts his arm around Ian and pulls him into his side, kissing him on the temple. “You were always enough. More than enough. Wish you could’ve seen that.”

“Well, I’ve paid the ultimate fucking price for it. Broke your heart and mine and spent my life married to someone I despise. I’m glad you found Toby. He seems like a great guy and you deserve every moment of happiness you can get.”

Mickey doesn’t know what to say to that. Toby is great and he has been happy. But Toby isn’t the love of his life and never will be. And he wonders what his life is going to be like after tonight. “You deserve to be happy too,” is all he manages to say.

***** 

Ian forcibly shuts down his thoughts about Mickey’s confession for the time being, but he knows he is going to revisit it many times. Mickey has forgiven him, and he is grateful, but it will take years for him to forgive himself. He knows he must try. Mickey is saying that they need to let it go and understand that Terry is ultimately responsible for all of it. They were just kids and they did the best they could. 

They head back inside, and he prepares dessert before they settle on the floor in the living room. It’s just strawberries and cream. And yes, he chose them deliberately. They are done with the heavy stuff and he wants to enjoy the remaining hours they have together. 

“You ever going to admit you were jealous of Ned?” he asks, smug smile on his face.

Mickey laughs, then dips a strawberry in cream and feeds it to him. “You ever going to admit you were jealous of Angie Zargo?”

“Fuck off I wasn’t jealous of Angie Zargo. I just couldn’t understand why you were fucking her.”

Mickey doesn’t answer, but instead leans forward and licks across his lips and then sits back with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You had a little cream there,” he says, then licks his own lips. 

Ian is completely distracted by Mickey’s warm tongue for a few seconds before he remembers what they are talking about. He dives onto Mickey, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. “What are you not telling me about Angie Zargo?”

“Come here,” Mickey says, pulling him down by his shirt and whispering, “I didn’t fuck her that day.”

“Mickey what the fuck? I was so jealous and for nothing.”

Mickey is almost giggling. “You just admitted you were jealous.” Mickey threads a hand around his neck and pulls him down. Kissing Mickey is like getting a hit of heroin; he’s instantly high, his body pulsing with pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful, Mick,” he says when they pull apart.

Mickey unexpectedly rolls them and settles himself on top, pinning Ian’s arms above his head. “I was jealous of Kash, Ned and every motherfucker that even looked in your direction, and I thought you were beautiful when you were fifteen but look at you now. Beautiful and sexy and this fucking body.” Mickey lifts Ian’s T-shirt and presses a kiss to his chest. “Finally got some hair on your chest, huh, Gallagher?”

Ian must have the goofiest grin on his face, but Mickey teasing and flirting with him makes him feel light and joyful. Mickey strokes his fingers through the hair on his chest and he closes his eyes, enjoying the simple touch.

“When did you know you loved me?” Mickey whispers.

Ian opens his eyes and Mickey is looking down at him, soft and full of love. “I knew I was falling in love with you the second time we fucked, and I was 100% head over heels, motherfucking crazy in love by the time you went to juvie.”

“The first or second time?”

“The first. Missed you so much. What about you?”

“Still haven’t decided,” Mickey says, smiling down at him.

“Come on, Mick. I told you.”

“Yeah okay, that’s fair. I was holding back for a while, as you know. I didn’t want to admit I was gay and having sex with no strings was my way of denying it to myself. But being in juvie the first time made me realise how much I cared about you—not just the sex but the friendship part too. Then when I got out and we went to the dugouts that night. Remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well I knew that night, and it scared the shit out of me.”

Ian sits up and wraps his arms tightly around Mickey. “Kiss me.” Mickey’s lips are instantly on his, the warmth and wetness making him sigh. Then Mickey rocks in his lap, ass grinding over his cock, and he knows there is only one way he wants to spend the rest of the night. He pulls his lips off, already short of breath. “Mick, can I fuck you, make love to you?”

Mickey answers by kissing him again, then climbing off his lap and offering his hand. 

*****

Still holding hands, Ian leads him towards the back of the house, turning to check on him every few steps as if he’s worried Mickey will change his mind. 

“We have a guest suite downstairs here. It’s nice,” Ian says as he opens the door to the bedroom. Ian pulls back the duvet and Mickey sits on the edge of the bed. “That’s the ensuite if you want to use it. I’ll go and get us some lube. Don’t want to try to give you another spit fuck.” Both their faces split into smiles and they laugh.

“We did that fucking way too many times back in the day,” he says, as Ian heads out the door. Mickey decides he wants to shower, so he heads into the ensuite, takes a piss then turns on the shower. Just as he’s about to get in, Ian appears in the doorway.

“Can I join you?”

Mickey strips Ian out of his boxers and T-shirt, then pulls him in under the water. 

Earlier in the night when they had tried to fuck, it had started and ended so fast that it had barely registered. He’s glad they are getting the chance to take their time; he wants more than a quick fuck—perhaps more than any other time in his life. Now that he rarely bottoms it seems even more significant. To have Ian thrusting inside him, cumming in him, it will be giving a part of himself that he’s kept a tight hold on for many years. He feels nervous. And incredibly aroused.

The hot water feels nice, but he pays no attention once his eyes take in Ian’s body with water running down it. Mickey’s cock is already at half-mast—has been since they started messing around on the floor in the living room—and it continues to harden as Ian lathers him with soap, large hands sweeping across his chest and arms. It’s a weird combination of being cared for, nurtured even, while the lust sizzles between them. Ian is looking at him intently, eyes nearly black, as his long, thick cock pushes against Mickey’s stomach. When he can’t take it anymore, he crashes his lips to Ian’s, slamming him against the shower wall. It’s tongues and biting, panting and rutting and Mickey feels so fucking alive. 

Ian pushes back, always fighting for dominance, and Mickey goes willingly, loving the way Ian presses him back against the opposite wall, hands squeezing and stroking all over.

“Fuck, Mick, you feel so good,” Ian says, then flips him so his chest is to the wall. “Oh, this fucking ass. How do you still have this ass?” Ian is lathering soap into his butt cheeks, massaging them in outward circles so his cheeks spread and close. Licking and kissing at Mickey’s neck, Ian slides a finger between his cheeks and starts teasing at his hole. Mickey is panting, face pressed to the wall and ass pushing back in desperation. “You like that, Mick?” Ian whispers, before sucking on his earlobe.

“Fuck yeah, I like that. You’re a fucking tease.”

Ian chuckles at him, “Well I thought you wanted a shower to get clean so I would eat you out. But I was going to anyway.”

“Fuck Ian,” is all he can say, followed by some shameless moaning as Ian soaps up his asshole and dips just the tip of his finger inside over and over again. 

“Think you’re ready for me,” Ian says, rubbing and sliding the tip of his cock against his hole.

Mickey hasn’t been eaten out in a long time. And he wants it. He wants everything with Ian. He turns around and they kiss again, the water cascading over their heads and down their bodies as they stroke each other’s cocks slow and firm. Ian’s cock is still the best looking cock he’s ever seen, so he drops to his knees, eager to see if it tastes just as good as it used to. He looks up at Ian as he swirls his tongue around the tip, Ian moaning loudly and biting down hard on his bottom lip.

“Tell me what you want?” he asks as he pumps Ian’s cock in one hand and rolls his balls with the other.

Ian runs his hands through Mickey’s hair before fisting it. “Mickey, please suck it, fuck, take it all in. Your mouth, those lips.” Ian moves forward so he can rub his cock over Mickey’s mouth, precum leaking over his lips. Mickey darts his tongue out, tasting, moaning, then swallows Ian down slowly, sucking hard as he pulls off. “Fuck fuck fuck,” Ian whines and Mickey is filled with pride knowing he can still take Ian apart.

He sets a moderate pace, changing up his technique and deep throating once he gets more confident. It takes a lot of control not to touch himself, he wants to cum so bad. Ian’s cock is so fucking hard, and he slows down, then pulls off when Ian’s legs start to shake. Standing back up, he licks into Ian’s mouth. “Let’s take this to the bed.”

Once they are dry, Ian walks him backwards into the bedroom, their lips never leaving each other. They’ve slowed down again, and that’s a good thing; he wants them both to last. Ian lays down on top of him, laying sweet open-mouthed kisses across his jaw and down his neck. He surrenders to Ian’s weight, and to the way Ian presses his wrists into the mattress. Mickey would let Ian do anything to him, his cock pulsing between their bodies, his hole clenching and unclenching in anticipation. 

When Ian looks at him, Mickey watches Ian’s eyes roam over his face, eyes hooded with desire. “Mick, I want to go slow at first. Make the most of it. But I promise to give you a pounding in the end, just like you like.”

“Slow is good. Want to get a good look at you anyway,” he says, tweaking one of Ian’s nipples.

Ian sits back on his knees, then tells him to roll over and get on his knees. Mickey relaxes his head and arms down onto the bed, ass on display. 

“Oh, Mick, do you know how many times I’ve fantasised about this?” Then his cheeks are spread wide and Ian’s warm, wet tongue licks a stripe from the tip of his cock to his hole. He lets out a groan from deep in his chest as Ian gets to work opening him up with his tongue. It’s so fucking good and dirty. Ian is moaning, his tongue swirling in and around his hole, and Mickey feels everything relax until his body is tingling from head to toe. He had forgotten how much he loves his ass being played with. 

“Give me more Ian, please, fuck,” he says, pushing his ass back onto Ian’s tongue.

Ian coats his fingers with lube and pushes two fingers in, slapping his ass hard then rubbing over his cheek. Mickey knows he is leaking precum all over the sheets and he turns his head, needing to look at Ian as he finger fucks him. Ian’s eyes are focussed on his own fingers sliding in and out and Mickey wishes he could see it too.

“Mick do you think you are open enough or need more prep?”

“Need you to get on me. On your back,” he says, already moving, straddling Ian as soon as he lies down. Grabbing the lube, Mickey slicks up Ian’s cock, then hovers over him.

“Please,” Ian almost begs. They keep their eyes on each other as Mickey sinks down slowly, wanting to suspend time and prolong the feeling. Their moans mingle, both closing their eyes in pleasure once Mickey is fully seated. Mickey is overcome with emotion, the sensation of Ian filling him up overriding all else. 

Ian’s hands are stroking up and down his thighs. “Mickey, don’t move yet. Wait. I’m too close. You’re so perfect. So tight around my cock.” Ian’s words turn him the fuck on and he clenches around Ian’s cock. “Mickey, don’t. Fuuuck.” Mickey forces himself to relax, then places his hands over Ian’s, breathing deeply, and pulling himself back from the edge too. 

They watch each other, chests rising and falling. “Fuck I missed you,” Ian says, voice thick with emotion.

“I missed you too.” He leans forward so they can kiss. It’s so gentle and soft and full of love.

When he sits back up, he rocks his pelvis slightly, causing just the smallest amount of movement. Then he circles his hips, stretching himself out because he’s still so tight. After a couple of minutes, he rides Ian slowly, lifting nearly all the way off before sinking back down. He rolls his pelvis each time because that always drove Ian wild.

“Mickey, you are the sexiest motherfucker,” Ian tells him.

Mickey rides Ian until his thighs burn then Ian sits up and they make out for a while. It feels so fucking good sitting in Ian’s lap, cock buried deep inside him, arms holding him, squeezing him close, lips swelling as Ian sucks and bites at him. “Fuck me from behind,” he says, as Ian licks up his throat.

They switch positions, Mickey on his hands and knees with Ian kneeling behind him, then Ian slams into him hard. The angle is hitting his prostate with each thrust, Ian working up to a punishing speed. They both grunt and groan, profanities pouring from their mouths. Their skin is slick with sweat, Ian holding his hips, pulling him back onto his cock. It’s fucking glorious.

Mickey still hasn’t touched his cock, not wanting to cum, but he’s getting fucking close anyway when Ian abruptly stops. “Fuck! Mick, gotta stop for a second. Ian pulls him up to kneeling, wraps an arm around his chest and cups his jaw with his other hand, turning Mickey’s head so they can kiss. Ian stays still inside him for a minute, then slowly pulls out and lays him on his back. “Mick, I can’t hold off much longer. You need to tell me. Can I?”

Mickey knows Ian is asking him if he can cum inside him or if he will need to pull out. They haven’t spoken about the lack of condom, as if by not mentioning it they don’t have to face how wrong it is. It’s a risk that he hopes he won’t regret. “Yeah, I want you to.”

He spreads his legs wide and pulls Ian’s body down over him. This is what he wants most of all, and Ian does too. It’s why they’ve saved it for last. Ian pushes back into him and fucks him slow. They are chest to chest, the friction on his cock with each thrust pushing him closer to release. Their lips barely leave each other and when they are not kissing, they are moaning into each other’s mouths or whispering words long overdue. The pleasure rolling through his body is unparalleled.

When Ian lifts up onto his elbows and looks at him with tears in his eyes, he knows what’s coming and he’s ready for it.

“Mickey, I love you.”

His heart feels like it’s going to explode with both pain and pleasure. “I love you too. So fucking much.”

Ian thrusts hard and fast, and Mickey reaches between them to stroke his own cock.

“I’m gonna cum Mick,” Ian says, voice breaking with emotion. He gets it. Neither of them want this to end.

“Let go, Ian. Fill me up. Need it.”

Mickey’s orgasm rips through his entire body, shooting hot between them, his ass pulsing around Ian’ s cock. He moans loudly, body throbbing with pleasure. Seconds later, Ian cries out when he cums. Mickey can feel Ian pulsing inside him, so he grabs Ian’s ass and holds him deep inside, never wanting it to end. When they both stop shuddering, Ian buries his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck and Mickey strokes his back to comfort him. A tear escapes and rolls down the side of his face. He can feel the dampness of Ian’s tears on his neck.

After a few minutes Ian pulls out and they settle; Ian spooning him, lips pressed to the back of his neck. They don’t talk for a while. He’s not sure what’s going through Ian’s head, but he doesn’t trust his own voice to speak just yet. His body aches all over, his skin feels overly sensitive and his head and hands tingle—almost like pins and needles. He doesn’t remember the last time he came that hard or felt that kind of pleasure. Sex with Ian isn’t just a physical act, it’s fused with who he is at his core. Ian is someone who knows him on a profound level, and what they share is a once in a lifetime connection.

And Mickey doesn’t know how he’s going to walk out that fucking door.

Mickey doesn’t know how he can leave Ian.

Mickey doesn’t know how he could leave Toby.

He knows where his heart rightfully belongs. But there’s the right thing. And loyalty. And vows.

*****

Ian holds Mickey tight, spooning him like he used to when they were young. He had forgotten sex could be like this, and he feels vulnerable and fragile. The feeling of being inside Mickey, cumming inside him, was everything he had imagined and more. He wanted Mickey to be his. To look after him. To get the chance to do right by him. Ian has told Mickey he would wait for him and he means it. He will wait until his last dying day because no one could ever fill his heart like Mickey can.

They lie silently in bed for ten minutes or more and Ian worries Mickey regrets it, and is being tormented by guilt. They are covered in lube and cum and they need to shower. It’s deep in the night and exhaustion is hitting him hard after his orgasm. “Mick, you want to shower now or in the morning?”

“We should shower now.” 

Once they are in the shower, they clean each other up. Ian relaxes when Mickey starts kissing him and touching him again. There is genuine love between them, but it is laced with the sadness of their predicament. And Ian is all too aware of the physical realities of what they have done and what Mickey will need to hide. He has been careful not to mark Mickey, biting only gently, no hickeys or bruises. But he came inside Mickey and Mickey is expected home for breakfast in a few hours. “Mick, do you want me to give you some privacy, you know, to…” Ian knows Mickey can’t go home with Ian’s cum still leaking out of his ass and it’s a stark reminder of what they’ve done. 

Mickey closes his eyes and Ian knows he is struggling to keep it together. Ian wraps Mickey up in his arms, cradling his head. “Talk to me,” he says.

“Ian this is so fucked up. I gotta clean myself out, but part of me wants to keep you inside for as long as possible.”

Ian holds Mickey tighter, his heart breaking at Mickey’s confession. There’s really nothing he can say, so he kisses Mickey on the forehead, gets out of the shower and takes his towel back into the bedroom. He needs to give Mickey his privacy.

Ian dries off quickly, changes the sheet on the bed, then grabs both their cell phones from the living room. Fortunately, the duvet was pulled back and is still clean. He hops in and pulls the duvet up just as Mickey enters the room. 

Mickey climbs in and settles with his head on Ian’s chest. “Do you think we should both get tested, just to be sure?”

“Yeah, we should. I’ll get it done before the weekend. What time do you need to leave in the morning?”

“Jesus, maybe 7.30 at the latest.”

Ian leans over to the nightstand and grabs his cell. “Okay it’s 3.30am, I’ll set the alarm for 7am. I put your cell on your nightstand for you.”

Mickey sets his alarm too, and then Ian turns the light out. They settle, Ian always the big spoon. Mickey grabs his hand and threads their fingers together and it could be nineteen years ago, falling asleep with Mickey in his arms. “Mick,” he whispers into the dark, “Thank you for giving me this. I’ll never forget it. I love you, always remember that.”

Mickey turns his head and kisses him hard, holding his face as they press their lips together. “I know. Love you too.”

Ian nuzzles back in against Mickey’s neck and tangles their legs together. He focusses on how beautiful it feels to have Mickey next to him, breathes his scent in and let’s sleep take him. 

*****

When Mickey’s alarm sounds at 7am he grabs it quickly, switching it off. Ian is glued to his back and somehow still asleep. He realises he has a serious headache, undoubtedly from having only had three and a half hours sleep. When Ian’s alarm starts, he jerks in fright at the fucking noise Ian has chosen. And it’s fucking loud. He jabs Ian with his elbow. “Wake the fuck up Ian and turn that shit off.” 

Ian sits up, looking at him like he’s seen a ghost, eyes blinking. “Fuck, it really happened.”

“Yes, it really happened. Can you turn that fucking thing off?”

“Shit, sorry.” Ian reaches over, turns it off, then lays back down facing him. “How you feeling?”

“God awful headache. Sorry for being an asshole,” he says, not wanting to ruin everything. He feels agitated and rushed, and there’s anger under there too. None of it’s about Ian, it’s about the situation and what he has to get through—saying goodbye, seeing Toby, lying some more. Then there’s the fear about how life is going to be from now on, now everything’s changed. At the moment, guilt doesn’t rank too highly, and that concerns him.

“You want me to get you some painkillers?”

“Nah don’t worry. I’ll end up sleeping in my office. How you going to get through your course today?”

“Lots of coffee then home to bed by 5pm.”

“Fuck Ian, be careful driving.”

Ian smiles at him, then rolls on top of him. “Shut the fuck up and let me kiss you before you go.”

They kiss softly, lovingly and it’s sweet at first but then Mickey can feel Ian’s mood changing, feels the sadness creeping in. Mickey rolls them, so he’s on top and Ian closes his eyes. “Ian, let’s not do this. Ian, look at me.” Ian opens his eyes and looks at him with so much pain. “We had a perfect night. Let’s not ruin it. Okay?”

Ian nods his head, then Mickey connects their lips again, licking gently into Ian’s mouth, trying to catalogue every part to memory. 

Once they get out of bed Mickey takes a piss, fixes his hair and gets dressed while Ian goes to make coffee. When he makes it to the kitchen, Ian hands him a coffee and he takes a few sips. It’s almost 7.30 and he needs to get going. He wants to scream. They are both so quiet, trying to hold it all in until they part.

Ian walks him to the front door and they just stop and look at each other. Fuck, he’s so worried about Ian. “Did you take your meds last night and this morning?”

“Yeah I did,” Ian says, eyes darting all over his face.

“Ian, I’m sorry this is goodbye.” Mickey looks away, not wanting to see the hurt on Ian’s face. “You know I love you and I probably always will. But I said vows.”

“I know Mick. But it doesn’t change anything for me—I’m going to leave Brad, get a job and get on with my life. But I meant it—I’ll be here waiting, however long it takes. I’ll wait forever.”

Ian gathers him up in those long arms and they hold each other. Minutes go by. He doesn’t want to cry. They had a beautiful night, a perfect night, and he doesn’t want to spoil it. He just wants to lock it away inside, cherish it, keep it safe, just for him. “Gotta go,” he whispers into Ian’s chest, afraid his voice will break and give him away. Then he steps back, body screaming out in protest. They look at each other once more and he knows there is genuine love and friendship and now forgiveness too. Ian leans forward and gives him one last kiss to his forehead, then he forces himself to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING (if you need it): Adultery.
> 
> ** I hope you found a lot to love in this chapter even though I may have left you sad at the end. (Sorry!) I did say I intended this fic to be realistic. I assure you, you will be getting the full "Rachael Romance" that you all deserve!!!! This fic will be 12 or 13 chapters and I think the remaining chapters will all be long. Having said that, I expect it will take me a week to get the next chapter done as I have an increased workload ahead of me. 
> 
> ** You know I love to hear your thoughts and comments so please indulge me. (Unless you're mad at me and then don't! LOL)  
> KUDOS if you are enjoying this fic! Subscribe if you don't want to miss updates. Thank you so much for reading!!  
> Take care everyone!  
> Rachael x


	10. Life goes on, yet is stagnant without someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up two days after their night together - but covers a period of TWO MONTHS! Headings are used throughout so you know how much time as passed. I suggest you read slowly, so you can absorb the story in context with the passing of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up some random addresses in this - my research time is limited. Forgive me!

** 2 DAYS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

Friday afternoon after he finishes his course, Ian heads straight to the clinic to get tested. Thursday had been weird, his body still buzzing with a deep satisfaction while his mind alternated between absolute grief and overwhelming euphoria. Their night together had been filled with pleasure and pain, and it seemed like their relationship was inextricably bound by these two opposing forces. After struggling to concentrate all day, he had collapsed into bed as soon as he arrived home, then slept terribly, waking up either crying or overflowing with love. He knew he had to watch himself and get an appointment to see Dr. Riley the following week. 

As he waits for his name to be called, he checks his watch, worried he is going to be late to pick up Lucinda. The bus doesn’t get in until 6pm, so he should be ok. Brad’s flight doesn’t land until 7.30pm so he will get a little time with Lucinda before he has to deal with his husband. A husband he has only texted a few times while he’s been away. Brad called him on Wednesday to check in and other than that, nothing. It certainly speaks to the state of their marriage.

“Mr. Johnson.”

Ian gets up and follows the nurse into the room, rolling his sleeve up as he goes. He wants this over and done with, suddenly wracked with suffocating guilt. While he had never cheated on Brad until this point, he wouldn’t put it past his husband to have indulged in some extra-marital affairs. 

There weren’t any condoms in the house, and they should have gone out and bought some or not had sex. He had hesitated to cum inside Mickey, knowing it increased the risk, but he had done it anyway. It was selfish of both of them. And fucking stupid. If he passed something to Mickey and then he passed it to Toby. Fuck! His mind spirals with panic.

The nurse asks him a few questions and takes his blood. Results will be in on Monday. He makes it outside then throws up in the car park. Maybe he’s not okay. He wants Mickey. The thought of lying in bed next to Brad tonight fills him with dread. He can’t fuck Brad, he can’t. It would feel like he was cheating on Mickey. Ian climbs in his car, then lets the tears fall. It’s so much worse now, the ache in his heart and his body. His hand hovers over Mickey’s number on his cell, but he knows he cannot call. 

** 5 DAYS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

The day after their night together, Mickey had used every ounce of his energy lying to Toby over breakfast - more concerned with getting caught than thinking about what he had done. At work he had told Sam not to disturb him and he had crashed in his office, head on his desk. He slept all morning, then spent the afternoon flustered and frantic. He desperately wanted to call Ian to check on him, or just to hear his voice. Flashes of their night invaded his mind without permission, his cock flooding with arousal time and time again. He had gone home late and then went through the motions, knowing he had to find some way to move forward.

It’s been five days now and he’s starting to relax. And with that, he finally begins to think. There’s surprisingly little guilt, and that worries him. It didn’t _feel_ like he was doing anything wrong when he let himself be with Ian. And he knows that’s fucking messed up because he cheated on his husband and there’s no two ways about it—it was wrong. But his body and heart say differently. Maybe he has disconnected, compartmentalised? It’s almost like there’s two Mickey’s—the one married to Toby, who is stable and rational, emotions regulated, controlled, and then the other Mickey who is in love with Ian, impulsive, driven by desire, living in the moment. The truth be told, he doesn’t like either of these versions of himself, he needs these two to merge if he is to feel whole. He accepts that it will never happen with Toby, but he also has doubts about Ian too. Ian is a loose cannon, and he can’t control him. That frightens him—this need to hold on tight to Ian and never let him go. Is Ian ready to hold on tight to Mickey and never let him go?

Mickey berates himself for heading down this way of thinking. He is married. He made his choice. And he told Ian it was goodbye. Why he is torturing himself is beyond comprehension. They needed that night—not just the sex, but all those suffocated emotions finally verbalised and laid bare. The sex was to heal and maybe that’s why he didn’t feel as bad as he should. Because fucking damn it, he needed to heal.

Checking his watch, he sees it’s 10 minutes to closing. He’s tired and wants to go home, but he also wants to delay being fake in front of his husband, cos that’s what he’s doing right now—keeping a part of himself hidden. Mickey’s cell vibrates with a text notification and he picks it up, seeing it is Ian contacting him. He’s saved Ian’s number under ‘Clayton-Tiles R Us rep’. Opening the text, he reads…

**All clear**

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. He is relieved Ian’s blood work came back negative. And he had made it clear it was goodbye. But his heart sinks, nonetheless.

** 2 WEEKS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

When Ian and Lucinda arrive home after school pickup on Wednesday, he is a bundle of nerves. He has signed a six-month lease on a nice 3-bedroom apartment and it’s time he sat her down to discuss his plans. “Lu, I know you have homework, but I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Is everything okay? What’s happened?” Lucinda asks, a concerned frown on her face.

“Come and sit,” he says, taking a seat at the kitchen table, Lucinda following suit. “You know we’ve talked about things changing around here and I need to tell you what my plans are so you can decide what you want to do. I won’t be angry, whatever you decide. I promise.”

“Okaaay,” Lucinda says, fear in her eyes.

“Lu, you know Pops and I haven’t been happy for a long time. I can’t stay married to him anymore. I rented an apartment today and after I finish my course I am moving out. I want you to come with me, live with me. Pops may fight me in court for custody, but you will be able to stand up and have your say too. I need to know if you want to leave with me in two weeks or stay here with Pops. Whatever you decide, I will make sure you don’t miss out on anything.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“More than anything,” he says, eyes filling with tears.

“Of course Dad, I’ll come with you. Have you told Pops?”

“No, not yet. Tonight I’m going to tell him I need some space and move into the spare room. Then when I finish my course, we will move. I need time to get the new apartment furnished. I know I shouldn’t ask you to do this, but can you keep our plans to yourself and not tell Pops?”

“Yeah, I can. I understand.” Lucinda fidgets with the buttons on her top. “Dad, has this got anything to do with Mickey? You’ve been so up and down the last couple of weeks.”

“No, me leaving has nothing to do with Mickey, but I have been up and down the last couple of weeks because I saw him again. When you were on camp, we talked about a lot of stuff from the past, and it brought up a lot of shit.”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t, but I do. Probably always will.”

Lucinda puts her elbows on the table and rests her face in her hands. “Dad, I don’t know if I should tell you this or not…”

Ian leans forward, gently touching her forearm. “Pumpkin, what is it? You can tell me anything.”

Lucinda sits back up and holds his hand in both of hers. “I overheard something last week and I didn’t know if I should tell you or not but… I think Pops is cheating on you.”

Ian freezes, then takes about three seconds to realise this could be the best thing possible. “What makes you think that?”

“I heard him talking on the phone in his office after you had gone to bed. I came down to get a drink and he didn’t know I was downstairs. He said a whole lot of stuff like, ‘I wish I was with you,’ and ‘New York was everything,’ and….not sure if I should repeat this one…”

“It’s okay, tell me,” he encourages.

“He said, ‘we can stay late after work tomorrow and you can eff me on my desk’ but he didn’t say eff he said the word.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m sorry you had to hear that. Maybe this is good news. He might be happy to see me go. Must be someone at the law firm. Are you okay, pumpkin?”

“Yeah Dad, if I’m being honest, I’m happy. Wish you left years ago. I love Pops, but I don’t like the way he treats people sometimes, especially you. I’m going to do my homework before dinner.” Lucinda gets up and kisses him on the cheek before heading upstairs to her room.

*

Ian had spent the day moving his stuff out of their bedroom and into the downstairs guest suite to make separating in the house as smooth as possible. Late in the evening, Brad heads up to their room to shower and Ian knows it’s time. He feels physically ill with fear, praying this doesn’t turn into world war fucking three. When he enters their ensuite bathroom, Brad is standing stock still, staring at the double vanity. 

“Where the fuck did all your shit go, Ian?”

“Brad, we need to talk.”

Brad frowns at him and squints his eyes, “What’s going on?”

“Can we sit?” Ian says, walking back out to their room and sitting in one of the armchairs. 

Brad takes the other one, “Well?”

“I think we need some time apart. I haven’t been happy, and I think separate bedrooms would be good for a while.”

“Are you fucking around on me?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some space. To think.” Ian’s heart is beating so fast he feels like he’s going to pass out.

Brad gets up and stands over him. “If I find out you’ve been fucking around on me, you won’t get a god damn dime in the settlement and you can forget about getting custody of Lucinda. If you think a judge is going to award a child to a crazy fuck like you, then you are sorely mistaken.”

Ian shoots up and slams Brad against the wall, hands at his throat, squeezing. “I’ll fucking kill you if you try to take my daughter away from me and you know I’m fucking crazy enough to do it.” He lets go and steps back. They are both panting hard. 

Brad laughs at him, “You lay a finger on me ever again and you’ll find out just who you married.”

“I’ve known exactly who I fucking married for a very long time.” 

He strides out of their room, Brad yelling down the hallway, “You’ll be back in this bed the moment you want something.”

His body is shaking as he descends the stairs. Rushing to the guest bedroom, he shuts himself inside then turns and punches the wall. The pain rips through him and he punches again and again before sliding down to the floor in tears. 

Sometime later he realises his hand needs attention, so he gets the first aid kit, cleans off the blood and tapes on an ice pack. He checks on Lucinda - she’s sound asleep - and then returns to the guest bedroom. Stripping off his clothes, he climbs into bed. He never changed the sheets after his night with Mickey, and he swears he can smell him. It’s not possible, he knows that, but it calms him. Taking the pillow Mickey slept on, he hugs it to his face and replays the night in his mind. Holding Mickey, kissing him, making love to him. He lets his mind drift, he can almost feel Mickey’s lips on his, the warmth of being inside him, hands clinging desperately, blue eyes, I love you too…

*

Ian spends Friday night, all day Saturday, and Sunday morning buying furniture and supplies for the new apartment, and organising delivery for the following weekend when he will have the key. Brad isn’t speaking to him, so it has been easy to do without him knowing. The removal van is booked for two weekends ahead and he has organised the utilities. Doctor Riley is keeping tabs on him, but he feels good. He feels like he’s finally growing up and taking some control of his life. And he’s one step closer to proving to Mickey that he’s changed and that he means what he said. He’ll wait forever.

On Sunday afternoon, he walks into the Alibi and sees his brother sitting at the bar. Ian almost cries with relief; he wasn’t sure Lip would turn up. He approaches hesitantly, nearly upon him by the time Lip realises he’s there. When Lip stands up and without words pulls him into a hug, he wonders if he will dissolve into a puddle of tears. They sit and talk for hours, catching up and teasing the shit out of each other. He tries to apologise and tell Lip he’s going to make it up to him, and all of his siblings, and all Lip says is ‘forget it, we all fuck up.’ Lip tells him to come over for dinner with Lucinda once he leaves Brad and offers to help with the move too. The only thing he leaves out is Mickey, and he’s not sure why. He leaves feeling like he’s finally doing something right. He pledges to contact Fiona again; he’s not giving up until he’s made amends with every one of his siblings.

** 3 WEEKS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

Mickey is sitting on the sofa next to Toby as they watch TV. He hasn’t heard a fucking word, so stuck in his thoughts. The previous night had been a shit show and it was still sitting fresh in his mind. Thinking he should be more honest about his needs, he’d asked Toby to top, at first happy that he obliged and then regretting it more than words could say. Once his husband was inside of him, it made him brutally aware of everything Toby was not. Toby didn’t set his skin on fire, didn’t make his heart race, didn’t fill him up or fuck him with passion. No, that was what Ian did.

After they had sex, Mickey had found himself in the bathroom feeling physically ill; a myriad of emotions tearing at his insides. He felt guilty for thinking of Ian while his husband was fucking him. He felt guilty for not wanting to have sex with Toby anymore. He felt guilty for lying, for cheating, for not being with Ian, for being selfish, for fucking everything. It had taken three weeks, but guilt had finally tracked him down and was screwing the life out of him. 

“Mick, do you think the guy did it or the old lady?”

“Mick?”

“What?” he asks, turning to look at Toby, suddenly jolted out of his thoughts.

“Are you even watching? Who do you think the murderer is—that guy,” Toby says, pointing at the screen, “or the little old lady?”

“Uh, gotta be the old lady, doesn’t it?”

“Mick, you want to talk about whatever is going on with you? It’s like your body is in the room, but your mind is someplace else. And it’s been a few weeks now.” Toby leans forward to grab the remote off the coffee table, turns the TV off and looks at him expectantly.

Mickey wonders what bullshit is about to come out of his mouth for a split second, then dives in. “Just sick of work right now. You know I’m forty and keep wondering if this is what I’ll be doing every day until I drop dead.” It’s fucking morose and there’s some truth in it.

“Are you saying you’re not enjoying your business anymore? That came on fast. Is there something else you want to do? Is there something you can change to make it more enjoyable?”

“I don’t know, just been thinking about it a lot. Don’t want to make any rush decisions. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis,” he says, laughing at the end, trying to lighten the mood.

“Let me know if there’s any way I can help. You know it doesn’t work when you shut yourself off and deny what’s going on inside.” Toby reaches out and holds his hand.

“I was thinking we could go to New York and visit Mandy for the long weekend coming up. Wouldn’t mind getting out of Chicago for a few days.”

“Mick you know I can’t go. My parents are moving house that weekend and they need my help. I already promised. But maybe you should go anyway. I know how much you miss her.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Anything to get you out of this funk you’re stuck in.”

*

Mickey has no idea what he’s doing sitting in his car across the road from Brad Johnson’s law firm late on Thursday afternoon. A week ago, he had scanned Ian’s social media, getting a good look at Brad. Three days ago, he googled Brad and located his work address. Today, Toby is heading out after work with his workmates and that means Mickey has some free time. Free time he’s chosen to spend getting to know Brad Johnson a little better. He doesn’t know his intention; he just knows he needs to do it. There’s anger simmering under his skin as he spots Brad exit the building with a much younger man. 

Mickey slips out of his car and lights a smoke as he watches them talk. Brad is a good-looking man, even though he’s in his 50s. He has an air of sophistication about him, and it’s obvious he’s loaded. It’s easy to understand why a young Ian was attracted to him. The thought brings a flutter of jealousy to his stomach. The other man looks to be in his late 20s, is masculine and an 8 in the looks department. It takes Mickey all of fifteen seconds to note the body language between them, and the look of awe in the young man’s eyes. 

They seem to be having some sort of playful disagreement, and after a full minute they head off together. Mickey crosses the road and follows closely behind; Brad has no idea who he is - their dealings all via phone or email. The two men bump their hands together every now and again and Mickey almost laughs out loud, wondering if they think they’re fooling anybody. 

Entering a parking garage, Mickey pulls back a little. What the fuck he hopes to achieve, he doesn’t know. Is he going to approach them? And if so, what the fuck would he say? Do? Part of him wants the beat the living shit out of Brad, but he’s not sure what that will achieve—for him or for Ian. Yes, he’s feeling emotions he hasn’t felt in many years, they are primal, and they are strong.

Brad and his little gold digger stop at a car, so Mickey stops behind a concrete pillar, far enough away that they won’t see him. When the young dude pushes Brad back against the car and snakes a hand around his neck, Mickey pulls his cell out of his pocket and scrambles to open the camera. By the time he focuses the camera up at them, they have their tongues down each other’s throats. He snaps multiple photos, then zooms in. He manages to get two close ups of Brad with his head thrown back while his young lover licks up his neck.

Mickey has seen more than enough, and heads back to his car wondering what he’s going to do with this information.

*

On Friday, he slips out of work and gets the photos printed. When he returns, he types a simple note and prints it out. He prints an envelope with ‘Ian’ on it and then he places everything inside. Mickey knows he could give it to Ian in person, or text the photo files, but that would open things up again and he’s trying so fucking hard to get his head straight. But if this can help Ian with his divorce, then that’s what he wants to do.

*

On Saturday he tells Toby that Sam is sick and he needs to head into work. He drives to the Johnson house and sits up the road, ensuring he can still see the front door. Thirty minutes later Brad comes out with some golf clubs—of course the fucking douche plays golf—and drives off. Mickey waits a full five minutes, moves his car closer for a quick getaway, then heads towards the front door. Ian’s car is in the driveway, so he knows he’s home. Slipping the envelope under the door, he rings the bell and strides back to his car. As he drives away, he sees the front door open and a flash of red hair. His heart beats wildly and his hands grip the wheel, willing himself to keep driving.

*****

Ian opens the front door to find no one there. He steps outside to look around then heads back in, his foot hitting something and sending it sliding across the entrance hall. It’s an envelope. Picking it up he notes that it says ‘Ian.’ He opens it and pulls out the contents - photos, it seems, edges sticking out around a letter. When he opens the letter, his eyes fall onto the first photo. It’s his husband with another man. A very young man by the looks of it. Ian doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He flicks through the photos, now laughing as tears fall down his cheeks. He has evidence. And a chance at getting a divorce in just six months now that he has grounds. Sitting down on the sofa, he reads the note…

**Hope this is what you need to divorce that motherfucker and clean him out.**

Ian knows it is Mickey the moment he reads the note and his weird half laughing half crying turns into all tears because Mickey is still thinking of him and protecting him. Even if only from afar. It does something to him. Even if Mickey never comes to him, he knows with complete certainty that Mickey loves him. Maybe that will have to be enough.

Ian and Lucinda head off to the new apartment, he’s scheduled everything to arrive between 10am and 2pm. It’s the first time Lucinda is seeing their new place, and he’s worried she might be unhappy going from a huge house to a modest apartment. He could have spent more, but without knowing how expensive his legal fees will be and what he will get in the divorce settlement, he feels it’s best to be frugal. 

He opens the door and stands aside to let Lucinda go in first.

“Dad, it’s cool. So modern and look at the view,” Lucinda says walking over to the living room window. They are opposite a park and have a nice sized balcony too. 

“Come and look at the bedrooms—it has three—so you have two to choose from.”

Lucinda chooses the larger one and is extremely happy that she has her own ensuite. “Dad, you can stop looking nervous, I like it. It’s close to school, and it’s big enough for the two of us. And we won’t be here permanently, will we?”

“I took a six-month lease to start with. We might need to stay for a year, depending on the settlement and then we can see what we can afford.”

Lucinda approaches and wraps her arms around him like she’s still a little girl. He hopes he’s doing the right thing by her, uprooting her entire life on very short notice. The last thing he wants is for Lucinda to a pawn in his and Brad’s divorce.

“We’ll be okay, Dad. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.” He leans down and places a kiss to the top of her head. He wants to believe her, but she hasn’t held onto him this tight since she was eight or nine years old.

They hang out at the apartment until all the deliveries arrive—unpacking things and moving the furniture around to decide where it fits best. He plans on slipping back again tomorrow to unpack some kitchen and linen supplies and to put together his new bed. All of Lucinda’s furniture will go with the moving van along with their clothes and other personal effects next weekend. He has been in constant contact with his lawyer, Charlotte, and her number is on speed dial should he need it when shit goes down. He can’t wait to call her on Monday and tell her about the photos of Brad. 

** ONE MONTH AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

It’s Sunday morning and the removal van has almost finished loading their boxes and furniture. On Friday he finished his EMT course, and he knows he passed. The official results will be released during the week. Yesterday was one of the most harrowing days of his life, telling Brad he was moving out, and Lucinda was coming with him, so they could go ahead and pack up their belongings. 

There was screaming, threats of all kinds from them both, and Lucinda having to stand her ground that she wanted to move too. Ian had spent most of the night awake, fearful, angry, and anxious. He hasn’t mentioned that he knows Brad has been cheating on him. Yet.

Lip is meeting them at the new apartment - along with his wife Tami and their eldest Freddie, who is the same age as Lucinda—to help them unpack and set up. It’s a good feeling to have family back in his life.

He gives Lucinda the car keys and tells her to wait in the car, then he makes his way to the study.

“We’re leaving now. I’ll be in touch so we can work out visitation for Lucinda. If you can also let me know your lawyer's details so I can pass them on to mine. From now on, it’s best we let them deal with it.”

Brad is staring at him, a sneer on his face, leaning back in his chair like he’s king dick. “Whatever Ian. We both know you’ll come crawling back with your tail between your legs. You can’t survive without me. You’ve got no job, you’re nothing but a fucking gold digger.”

“Think what you like Brad, I don’t give a fuck.” He turns to leave.

“You’re not getting Lucinda, you crazy fuck. And I’m not granting you a divorce, you can wait the two years.”

Ian stops, turns, then charges across the room, pushing Brad back in his chair, their faces inches apart. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? But you forgot one little detail. And that’s the photos and videos I have of you and your little blonde twink—you on your knees sucking his cock, you getting fucked in the ass over your desk. Yeah, I got it all.” Ian watches the cockiness drain from Brad’s face, eyes widening with shock. “I’ll be getting custody of Lu, a 50/50 asset split, and my divorce papers signed in six months. So fuck you!”

He steps back, a smug smirk on his face, then walks out of the house and towards his future.

*****

Mickey is on site at a reno job when he gets a text notification. Once he sees it’s Ian, he excuses himself before opening it and reading…

**Hope it’s okay to text. Passed my course. My new address is 7/379 Rochester Ave, Lincoln Park. Mick…always remember**

He can’t help but smile, thrilled to know Ian is out of that fucking house and passed his course. Ian is getting his life on track and he’s proud of him. If only he could tell him so, and hug him, and sit and share a beer with him. The last part of the text is bittersweet. He knows what Ian is trying to tell him without putting anything too revealing in the message. It’s the last thing Ian said to him before they fell asleep—‘I love you, always remember that.’ His heart aches to answer, but he doesn’t, slipping his cell back into his pocket and returning to the job at hand.

*

Two days later, he’s returning from a prospective job and realises he’s close to Lincoln Park. On impulse, he punches Ian’s new address into the GPS and follows the directions, finding himself parked across the road from the apartment building. Putting his window down, he lights up a smoke, checking out the area, and wondering why he’s here. It appears he is irrevocably drawn to Ian. Some unseen force seems to be at work, a force his body and soul responds to even if his conscious mind doesn’t. 

Deciding to put an end to his stupidity, he starts the car and puts his window back up. As he goes to indicate, he sees a flash of red come out of the building. Ian and Lucinda exit the building and head across the road toward the park. They are talking and laughing together. And they look happy. Mickey watches Ian throw an arm around his daughter’s shoulder and plant a kiss on her forehead before letting go as they continue into the park. It fills him with a lot of emotion, joy for Ian and a deep gulf of regret for himself, for Yev. He stays until they are out of sight, then pulls out into traffic and heads back to work. 

** 5 WEEKS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

Ian is just about finished his workout at the gym when his phone buzzes and he knows who it is. “Ian Gallagher speaking.”

“Ian, glad I caught you. It’s Ruby Winters, how are you?”

“I’m fantastic Ruby, how are you?”

“Good, thanks, Ian. I’m just calling to give you the good news. You got the job and we can put you on day shifts. We want to support our single parent workers, so I was able to shuffle the roster and make it happen.”

Ian wants to jump up and down and fist pump the air like a fucking dork. “Thank you Ruby. Really, thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

“You’re welcome, Ian. I’ll email you through all the information, paperwork, etc, and you start next week once we get your uniform sorted. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Thank you Ruby, can’t wait to start. Have a great day. Bye.”

“You too. Bye Ian.”

He ends the call and plops down on the nearest weight bench, legs like jelly. He fucking did it! Grabbing his gym bag, he shoots off a text to Lucinda to let her know the good news, then heads out to his car. 

And comes face to face with Toby.

“Ian, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Ian has zero fucking idea how to play this. He doesn’t know if Mickey told him or if Toby has found out. And how the hell did Toby find him? “How the fuck did you find me?” he growls.

“Does that even matter?”

“It fucking matters to me.”

“Wasn’t hard. Looked on your social media. You’ve got ‘checked in’ at this gym. I came down yesterday, told few white lies to the reception girl, and she told me you normally come around this time each day. Satisfied?”

“What the fuck do you want? And make it fast I have to pick up my daughter.”

“From your aggressive attitude, I think I already have my answer. Are you having an affair with my husband?”

Toby is standing his ground and eyeballing him. Ian isn’t a fucking idiot; he knows Toby loves Mickey and he can see the fear in the man’s eyes. “No, I’m not,” he says, holding the man’s gaze. “But I do love him. Always have and always will, so treat him right. He deserves the fucking world with all the shit he’s been through. You’re a lucky man Toby Mason, so don’t fuck it up.”

With that he pushes past Toby, knocking his shoulder on the way as he heads towards his car. But he’s rattled, and it takes time to pull himself together. If Toby suspects, and if Toby came looking for him, then they are having trouble in their marriage. Things have obviously changed for Mickey after their night together and yet not a word from him. Ian wants to reach out so badly, but his last text had gone unanswered. Fuck, maybe Toby had seen the text on Mickey’s phone and that prompted this visit today. Shit.

*****

Mickey is sitting with Mandy at her kitchen table. It’s late on Sunday night and her husband and kids are already asleep. He arrived on Friday night and he’s heading home tomorrow afternoon. Seeing his niece and nephew has been great, but it’s Mandy he came to see. And now he needs to open his fucking mouth and do what he came to do; confess and seek advice. 

“Mands, I fucked up…and I need some advice.”

“Was wondering when we were getting to this. What the fuck did you do, dumbass?”

“A couple of months ago I ran into Ian.”

“Ian Gallagher? You serious? Jesus Mick, what are you going to tell me?” Mandy slaps her hands over her face for a second before lowering them and glaring at him. “Spit it out.”

“Well, to cut a long story fucking short I spent a night with him. And we fucked.”

Mandy stares at him like he’s the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. “Isn’t he married too? What the fuck were you thinking? Are you having an affair? Mick, why after all these years?”

“That’s a lot of fucking questions. Yes, he’s married, but he’s just separated from his husband. But he wasn’t separated when we fucked. No, I’m not having an affair, I told him it was a one-time thing and said goodbye afterwards. And why? Cos it’s fucking Ian, and he persisted for like a month and told me he wanted another chance and he still loves me.”

“Mick that’s not a reason to cheat on your husband.”

“You think I don’t fucking know that? But I needed that night with him. I still needed closure or some shit. We talked all night. About everything and it was fucking amazing to get it all out. We’re both adults now, we’ve grown, and we understand shit now.”

“That’s all great Mick, but you didn’t have to fuck him.”

He stops talking. She’s right, of course. He feels the sting of tears forming in his eyes. “But I wanted him. He sets me on fucking fire Mandy. Same as when I was 17. I wanted him and I had him.”

Mandy watches him for a while, not speaking.

“Mick, do you love Toby? Are you happy with him?”

“Until Ian came back into my life, I thought I was happy. But now, I’m not so sure. Think I made a lot of fucked up decisions trying to protect myself. Ian broke my fucking heart and I never wanted to let anyone do that to me again. I love Toby, but if I’m being honest, it’s never felt like it felt with Ian.”

“Are you in love with Ian?”

He leans forward, putting his head in his hands, his heart beating fast. “I think so. Can’t stop thinking about him. Miss him. It’s so fucked up.”

Mandy places a hand around his wrist and pulls his hand away from his face. “Mick, look at me. To me, it doesn’t sound like you should be in this marriage. Sometimes, this happens and it fucking sucks, but you need to think about what’s right for you and what’s right for Toby too.”

“Mandy, he doesn’t deserve this. He’s a decent man. He did nothing wrong. How can I break him like that? I can’t!”

“Why don’t you consider having a trial separation. Be on your own for a while and get some perspective. See how you feel when you’re not with either of them. One of the best things about you is your loyalty, Mick. But sometimes you put that before your own needs, put other people before your own. And you’ll never be happy if you do that.”

“What, so be a selfish fuck?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. I always wondered when Ian would show up again. You two loved each other so hard. Maybe you weren’t old enough to deal with it back then. And it was like the world was conspiring against you both. Mick, I can’t tell you what to do, but ultimately your heart will decide for you. Whether its tomorrow or a year from now or ten years from now—your heart will eventually win out.”

Mickey thinks Mandy has become wise over the years. Maybe all the shit she went through with men and relationships enabled her to find true love in the end. He’s happy for her and she’s given him a lot to think about. The question is, what does his heart want? At the moment, it still feels like his heart is torn between the two of them. Or is his head saying one thing and his heart something else, and that’s what is tearing him apart?

He doesn’t have any answers yet, but it feels good to let out the truth and talk to someone. Holding it all inside was eating away at him. Standing up, he leans over and kisses Mandy on the cheek, loving that they have grown up enough to show affection. “Thanks Mands.” 

Mandy stands up and hugs him. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here. No judgement.” She releases him, then slaps him hard on the arm, “And visit more often, asswipe.”

** SIX WEEKS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

Despite Brad being the biggest fucking asshole to walk the earth, Ian has faith in Charlotte as they begin their battle. Ian can’t serve Brad with divorce papers until they have been separated for six months, so his immediate concern is if Brad is going to seek temporary custody of Lucinda until the divorce can be finalised. So far, he hasn’t, and Ian hopes Brad is more interested in romancing his young lover. They have communicated via email and agreed for Lucinda to spend Wednesday evenings and every second weekend with Brad. Lucinda is happy with the arrangement and despite Ian’s terror every time he drops Lucinda off, nothing untoward has happened. So far. He doesn’t trust Brad one fucking bit and the longer things go on without drama, the more he worries Brad is cooking up something to destroy him. 

Charlotte plans on gaining an interim custody agreement in writing along with a monthly child support payment. The evidence of Brad’s adultery ensures a divorce can be granted at the end of the six months—a date Ian has circled on his calendar. Maybe a miracle will happen, and Brad will allow them to divide up their assets appropriately so they can get on with their lives sooner rather than later. But he isn’t holding his breath.

Lucinda is coping better than expected and it’s like a weight has been lifted off both their shoulders. He didn’t realise how sad and depressing their household had become over the years. Now they eat in front of the TV if they want, Lucinda invites friends over and they talk more. They are just happier and lighter, and it feels good. It feels right.

Lip stayed true to his word and had them over for dinner. When they arrived, he was over the moon to find Debbie and Carl there too. It was a great night, although it brought him to tears a couple of times; seeing Lucinda getting to know her cousins and just being among family. And being accepted. He couldn’t wait to get his name changed back to Gallagher. Liam was up in New York, so he still needed to get up there. Fiona had finally agreed to meet him for coffee. He’d burned a bridge there, and he had work to do to fix it.

As he finishes up his third day back at work, he feels bone dead tired but fulfilled. He loves it. Yes, it’s a lot of pressure and he hasn’t had to deal with losing someone yet, but he’s contributing to the world in a positive way, and as cheesy as it sounds, it makes him feel good about himself. He hasn’t felt this good in so long. The only thing missing is Mickey, whom he still hasn’t heard from. Six weeks now. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he taps out a text, hoping it doesn’t cause Mickey any trouble.

**Back working—close to you at the Ashland Ave Station. Remember what I said Mick…forever**

Ian feels certain Mickey will be happy for him. Even proud of him. And he _will_ wait forever.

After saying goodbye to his workmates, he heads towards his late afternoon appointment. He’d been thinking about it for a couple of weeks, well since the day he separated from Brad, and today he is more than ready to walk through the door of the tattoo shop. Not having added any new ink since he met Brad, this is not only a symbol of his newfound freedom but of where he belongs.

Lying back in the chair, he has to control his emotions as ‘Mickey’ gets inked to his skin, over his heart, where the man has, and always will, reside. It will serve as a reminder of his pledge to wait, to stay true to his heart, which he failed to do before. 

Making his way home, he vows to get on with his life and cherish all the positives. It took him years to gain the courage to leave Brad and change his life for the better, and he knows Mickey landing on his doorstep that day was the missing piece of the puzzle. ‘Thanks Mick’ he whispers, before wiping away the single tear rolling down his cheek.

** SEVEN WEEKS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER… **

Mickey is on his lunch break, parked in his car on Ashland Ave. It’s the third time he’s been here—once he dropped by on his way home, the second time on his way to work, and now today. He doesn’t know if he plans to keep coming until he spots Ian or if he will give up soon. Telling himself that he is checking on Ian’s wellbeing, sooths his guilt and allows him to deny any deeper reasoning. 

Life is settled again; he doesn’t think of Ian every waking moment, and he can push his sexual fantasies aside if he needs to. But he feels dull, numb maybe. He gets up, then works, eats, sleeps and repeats. The days are drifting by and he recognises he is in limbo—caught between somewhere and nowhere—where life is stagnant. It almost feels like he’s standing still while the world continues. Everyone has a purpose, they’re rushing, involved, and he is motionless as they swirl around him. 

He thinks about what Mandy said a lot. What is holding him back from making a decision? Is it a fear of failing at his marriage? Or that he feels he owes Toby? Because he’s not getting any closer to deciding and time is stretching on. He’s no longer present in his marriage, and he’s not with Ian either. Toby believed in him, took a fucking chance on him, stood by him, and gave him his business. Stood by him. Has stood by him for ten years. Twice the time that he and Ian were together, even if you pretend they didn’t spend half of those five years just fucking, or separated from each other.

Mickey watches a familiar looking man enter the station, before it clicks that it’s Lip Gallagher. Not a minute later he emerges with Ian, their arms thrown across each other’s shoulders just like they used to do as boys. Ian is beautiful, red hair shining so bright in the sun, that boyish smile on his face. Mickey feels his own face breaking out into a smile in response. ‘Fuck, Ian,’ he mutters under his breath as he watches them head off down the road. And Ian looks so good in his uniform. Mickey closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. When he compares the Ian he met a few months ago to the one he just saw, he knows Ian is in a better place, and he’s going to be okay.

Driving away, he vows to stop doing this. Whatever this is. No more watching. No more checking up on him. It just hurts too much.

** 2 MONTHS AFTER THEIR NIGHT TOGETHER…. **

It’s a Tuesday when Ian suddenly finds himself on the rig heading toward Mickey’s showroom address. From the moment he hears the details the world stands still. His hearing is dropping in and out, moments of complete silence dispersed with deafening sounds; the occasional screech of the siren, ‘man late 30s’, the wind as they speed down the road, ‘17-D-3’, a co-worker yelling at him, ‘17-B-2’. 

He doesn’t know how his heart can beat this fast without killing him. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get his body to move when they arrive. All he knows is fear. He tries to focus. It’s a fall. Unconscious. Haemorrhage. He prays to God it’s not Mickey. What if it is Mickey and he can’t save him? What if he never gets to hold Mickey in his arms again? All he can think of is that he let nineteen years go by. Nineteen years he could have already had with the man he loves.

When they pull up, he steps off the rig, legs almost collapsing under him before he forces himself to meet his fate. He follows his co-worker, Kelly, into the showroom and they see a group gathered around an unmoving body, a pool of blood around his head.

“Ian, thank fuck!”

His head snaps toward the voice – Mickey’s voice – and he lets out this mournful cry, the relief flooding his body and stopping him in his tracks. It’s not Mickey that’s hurt, and he silently thanks God for keeping him safe. 

Not having time to indulge himself, he rushes over to join Kelly. Within seconds he has refocussed, and they get to work trying to save the man. It’s Jeff. He’s breathing but unconscious. They contain the haemorrhage and get him loaded onto the rig. Mickey rides in the back with Jeff on the way to the hospital, calling Jeff’s wife, having to make the worst possible call.

Once they have handed Jeff over to the E.R, Ian makes his way to the waiting room to see Mickey. Without any words, he pulls Mickey down the hall, into an alcove and holds him in his arms. He’s probably hurting Mickey he’s holding him so tight. Cradling Mickey’s head, he cries, swaying them gently as he tries to calm himself. “Mick, I thought it was you. Never been so fucking scared in all my life.”

“It’s okay, Ian. I’m okay, you’re okay. You saved Jeff’s life,” Mickey says as he strokes up and down Ian’s back.

“Thought I lost you.” He relinquishes his hold and takes Mickey’s face in his hands, then presses their lips together.

“Gallagher! We gotta go,” Kelly calls to him from down the hall.

He reluctantly pulls away, stares into those beautiful blue eyes, then turns to follow his co-worker. 

*****

The following afternoon Mickey ends the call with Jeff’s wife and breathes a sigh of relief. Jeff is out of danger and stable and they think he’s going to be okay. He’s been on the phone to his insurance company and filed out all the appropriate paperwork. It had been a freak accident, nothing pointed toward negligence or a violation of safety protocols in the workplace. Jeff had been on a ladder and sneezed so violently that he lost his balance. The fall hadn’t been the problem per say, but the fact he hit his head on a display bathtub on the way down that caused the serious injury. 

Ian had walked through the door yesterday and saved Jeff’s life. Watching Ian in action amazed him in the best possible way. He couldn’t believe Brad had stopped Ian from doing what he was always meant to do. Mickey was in awe of him.

He couldn’t fail to notice the look of horror on Ian’s face when he entered the building and then the intense relief upon hearing Mickey’s voice. When Ian pulled him aside at the hospital the depth of Ian’s feelings overwhelmed him. It radiated off Ian then wrapped itself around Mickey. In that moment, Mickey felt safe, supported, and valued. And oh so loved. The ride or die kind of love that he always so desperately wanted from Ian all those years ago. It was there, he couldn’t deny it. 

He picked up his cell and sent a text. If nothing else, he owed Ian a thank you for what he had done.

**If you’re free for dinner tomorrow let me know. Want to say thanks.**

About 47 minutes later – but who’s counting? – Ian replies…

**Barney Callahan’s 7pm?**

Mickey shoots off a ‘see you then’ text wishing he knew what he hoped to achieve by seeing Ian. His heart is pulling him, and Mandy’s words echo in his ears. Closing his eyes he immerses himself in the fantasy of Ian’s warm lips pressing against his and wishing it was already tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, chapter 11 is looking like it might be special ;) Thank you for your patience my beautiful readers!! It's obviously going to be a significant chapter in this story so I am going to say next Monday for chapter 11 so I can get it as perfect as possible!! I have started it already and looking forward to writing it.
> 
> For those that read my one shot "Manhandled" (thank you!!) I will be posting a second part on either Wednesday or Thursday this week. I had a lot of requests for an Ian 'chapter' and the idea was too appealing to pass on! It's written already - I love it - but I gotta edit it yet! I'm going to make it a series - series will be called "Satisfy me" - and the second part will be titled "Go Slow." So look out for it. Maybe if there's interest I will add more parts over time.
> 
> PLEASE KUDOS, SUBSCRIBE, USER SUBSCRIBE AND COMMENT IF YOUR HEART DESIRES!   
> Thank you for reading and have an amazing day!!  
> Rachael x


	11. Love will guide us home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins with Ian on the day of their planned dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: brief mention of a suicide (about an UNKNOWN character). No details.
> 
> This chapter bears the same title as the fic. Enjoy...

It’s been a month since Ian split from Brad, but it feels like a year; his life changing on every level. Work is going great (except for that day at Mickey’s showroom), he and Lucinda are better than ever, he is seeing his family, and even Fiona has agreed to meet him for coffee. 

Today he is meeting with Charlotte. She claims she has good news for him, and he waits nervously in the reception area. Although, most of the nerves are about Mickey. Receiving the text from him yesterday had been a surprise, and now he’s trying to stop his mind running away from him. He’s been fantasising about Mickey telling him he’s leaving Toby, or even better, that he already has. His mind conjures up romantic moments where they kiss in the rain or see each other across the room and run into each other’s arms. He really must stop watching rom-com movies with Lucinda. He glances at his watch. Only five hours to go and until he sees Mickey.

“Mr. Johnson, Ms Hunt will see you now,” the receptionist announces.

Standing up, he thanks the receptionist and heads into Charlotte’s office.

“Ian, take a seat. How are things going?” Charlotte says, motioning for him to sit.

“All things considered, great. Even Brad has backed off—no arguments when I drop Lu off at the house anymore.”

“Well, I’m not surprised to hear that. Let’s just say, this divorce will be settled quickly, quietly, and out of court.”

“What? Seriously? Why?”

“Ian, by the time we reach the six months and serve the divorce papers, I’ll have an asset division and custody agreement ready to be signed. You’ll be getting full custody and a 50/50 asset split because if those photos end up in the wrong hands, Brad’s career is over. And he knows it. He’s been fucking his junior associate, leaving his firm open to a sexual harassment lawsuit, plus apparently it’s not a good look for a married man of 53 to be screwing a 26-year-old on the side—especially when you’re gay. Hey, I don’t make the rules, but people get pretty ‘judgy’ when it comes to gay men.”

Charlotte stands and walks around her desk, sitting on the edge in front of him. “Ian, he cares more about his career and his status than anything else. He wants this over and done with so he can move his young lover in without judgement. From what our investigator has learned, he’s already lined up a new job for the kid. And well, there’s no easy way to say this.” Charlotte pauses, then leans forward and rests her hand on his elbow. “They’ve been together almost two years. I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear.”

“No, it’s fine. This is the best news I could get. Thank you, Charlotte.”

“My pleasure, Ian. Start planning your new life. And don’t forget to thank the person who took those photos.”

Ian thanks Charlotte again and gets up to leave, pausing at the door. “Charlotte, do we have a ballpark figure on the settlement?”

Charlotte laughs, “Thought you’d never ask. Somewhere around 2.2, give or take a couple of hundred thousand.”

“Two point two…million?”

“Yep, he was hiding another property, but our investigators found it. That’s where he took young Chad.”

“You’re a badass, Charlotte,” he says, beaming at her.

“That’s what my wife says.”

They nod at each other, a newfound understanding, then he gives her a wave and strolls out of the office, a lightness in his step.

*****

Mickey arrives at Barney Callahan’s five minutes early to find Ian sitting in the same booth they sat at last time. He has once again lied to Toby about his whereabouts, telling his husband he’s helping Iggy put together a new bed. Pausing at the door, he watches Ian for a few seconds, trying to get a read on him. There’s a heavy dose of nerves and Mickey can relate. He’s halfway across the room when Ian turns and spots him. He watches that beautiful smile spread across his lightly freckled face as he stands up, arms opening. Mickey allows himself to walk straight into those arms, kissing Ian on the cheek before relishing the warmth of the embrace.

“Thanks for the invite, Mick,” Ian says, pulling away and sitting back in the booth.

Mickey moves to take a seat opposite. “Thanks for coming. Just wanted to say thanks. For what you did for Jeff, saving his life.”

“Mick, it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me. Although it’s nice to see you. Just don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.” Ian plays it off with a laugh, but Mickey can see he’s dead serious.

“You thought it was going to me lying there on the floor.”

“Thought God was teaching me a lesson. Reminding me what a fuckhead I was to waste the last nineteen years.”

Mickey thinks all the oxygen has been sucked out of the air as they just stare at each other. He’s the first to break eye contact, picking up the menu. “What do you want to eat? My shout to say thanks.”

Ian smiles at him, understanding why he deflected. “The burgers were good last time. And a cold beer would be nice.”

“Coming right up.” Mickey gets up and heads over to order their dinner and grab a couple of beers. When he returns Ian is texting on his phone.

“Just checking on Lu. She’s got a friend over to keep her company.”

“How’s all that going? Brad being a fucking prick?”

“Well, he was. It was fucking ugly the weekend we moved out. But Lu is happier, and things have settled now. And today,” Ian pauses, putting his hands on the table and sitting up straighter, “I met with my lawyer, who’s a fucking badass lesbian by the way, and after some clever investigating and a subtle reminder that the photos of him cheating _could_ land in the wrong hands, Brad’s agreed to give me custody of Lu, and a 50/50 split of our assets.”

“That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard in a while. He was cheating on you, was he?”

Ian breaks out into a smile. “Yes, Mick he was cheating on me. Some 26-year-old named Chad, a junior associate at his firm. They’ve been together for two years, and he used to take him to his secret house.”

“Fuck! Geez Gallagher, you know how to pick em, don’t ya? How much you gonna squeeze out of the fucking bitch?”

“My lawyer says around two mill.”

Mickey’s jaw drops, “Fuck me, Gallagher.”

“Love to.” Ian bites his bottom lip, and a flash of lust crosses his face. “But in all seriousness, this wouldn’t be happening without those photos you got. None of it. The custody, the settlement, him leaving me the fuck alone. Mick,” Ian pauses and just stares at him for a beat, “Thank you.”

“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Gallagher. What photos?”

“Mick, I know it was you. I’m surprised you didn’t beat the shit out of him.”

“There’s always time.”

Ian reaches across the table and squeezes his hand before pulling away as the waitress approaches.

As their meals get placed in front of them, his chest fills with warmth knowing he’s a made a real difference in Ian’s life.

“Mick, there’s something I need to tell you. Well, maybe you already know. Fuck, I don’t know what the situation is with you and Toby after what we…what we did, but Toby approached me a few weeks ago.”

Mickey freezes, burger halfway to his mouth. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me Ian? Fucking weeks ago?”

“Mickey, don’t get mad. I knew you didn’t want me to contact you, and I was worried he’d seen the text I sent you so I didn’t think I should send another. I’m sorry. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Mickey feels panicked, sweat erupting down his back. Toby hasn’t said a single fucking thing about Ian in months. “Well, what the fuck happened? What did he say? What did _you_ say?”

“He was outside my gym waiting for me. He asked me straight out if we were having an affair.”

Mickey rubs his finger across his eyebrow, trying to stay calm. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do. “And what did you say?”

“I told him no, of course. Told him he was a lucky man to have you and he should treat you right.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Ian, so you basically told him your innermost feelings.”

Ian looks down at his plate, guilt written all over his face.

“What the fuck else did you say? May as well get it all out on the table,” he says, waving his hands around.

Ian looks up at him, “Shit Mick, it was hard knowing what to say when he put me on the spot like that. I may have told him I’ve always loved you and always will.”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Give me a minute. Don’t fucking follow me.” He gets up and storms out the front door, pulling his smokes from his pocket as he goes. Once he’s got one lit and had a few puffs, he tries to calm the fuck down. The big question is why didn’t Toby tell him or why hasn’t he confronted him if he thinks he’s having an affair? And if Mickey confronts Toby, then Toby will know he’s in contact with Ian. Finishing the first cigarette, he immediately lights another. Maybe Toby believed Ian. Yes, they had cheated that one time, but they weren’t having an affair. Toby must have believed Ian, or he would have confronted him. Right? His breathing returns to normal and the panic subsides. He wonders if he should call it a night but then heads back inside, Ian speaking before he even sits down.

“Mick, I’m sorry. I should have called and told you. I’ve had a lot going on with starting back at work and moving and I know that’s no excuse-”

“It’s okay, Ian. I overreacted. Just a fucking shock is all. Finish your food.”

Mickey chugs back on his beer and motions to the waitress, ordering another. Ian is sticking to his one beer and orders a coke. “Tell me about work. It looked like you were born to do it.”

Ian relaxes back in the booth, shovelling some fries into his mouth before answering. “Love it, Mick. Can’t believe I let that asshole manipulate me into not working all these years.”

“What do you mean, manipulate you? You’re a stubborn fuck, how’d he do that?”

Ian folds his arms over his chest and looks to the side as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s slow. Over years. Like when we were dating, he was slowly turning me away from my family by playing on my emotional bullshit. You know, me feeling neglected and unlovable. Then when we had Lu, he would tell me I didn’t want to be like Monica, but he would do it when I was over-tired, or riding through a depressive phase. Always planting ideas in my head. I can see it all now, plain as fucking day. But when it was happening, I was blind to it. It’s fucking embarrassing, Mick. Feel ashamed.”

Mickey struggles to look at Ian -it hurts him to see the pain and humiliation on his face. But what Ian says makes sense; his greatest fear was always that he would turn out like Monica. Brad’s a fucking asshole to do that, and he better hope he never crosses Mickey’s path ever again. “Don’t be ashamed, Ian. He’s a fucking prick. Praying on younger men when they are vulnerable so he can control them. I should have laid that motherfucker out when I had the chance.”

Ian laughs, “Oh, really Mick? And when did you have the chance?”

Mickey smiles, he can’t help it. “Shut the fuck up, Gallagher. You don’t know shit.”

“Oh, I do know shit. I know all your shit, Milkovich. Hey, you want dessert?”

They order dessert because Mickey isn’t ready to go home yet. He wants a little more time. 

“Mick, how’s business going?”

“Fucking great. I just landed a commercial contract to renovate all the bathrooms at that hotel on Rochester Ave. Moving up in the world. Hope it goes well so I can expand more into commercial jobs. Set to make a fucking fortune on this one.”

“That’s great, Mick. I’m sure it will be the start of bigger and better jobs for you. Shit this cheesecake is good.”

Mickey leans across the table and nabs some on his fork, shoving it in his mouth before Ian can react. “Mmm, does taste good.”

“Fucker, give me a taste of that snickers cake,” Ian says, trying to get to his cake as he defends it.

“Fuck off, I need all of this.”

“Mickey…give me a taste.”

Ian has that look in his eyes again, and Mickey feels himself blush. Picking up a forkful, he extends it across the table and feeds Ian. “Don’t say I never give you nothing, Gallagher.”

“Never; you’ve given me everything.”

Fuck, Ian will be the end of him. He’s thinking with his cock after he’d held out almost all evening. He’d like to climb across the table and into Ian’s lap. Make out with him for days. But Ian isn’t his, and he isn’t Ian’s, and suddenly he’s wondering if Ian is already dating. The man always had quite the sexual appetite. A tinge of jealousy rears up inside him. “How’s the single life? You dating again? Or just fucking?”

Ian looks almost shocked. “Not dating Mick. And I’m way past casual hook-ups.” Ian shifts gear and smirks at him, “Told you, I’m waiting for the right guy.” 

Ian is teasing and Mickey is willing to play the game. “You met him yet?”

“Yeah, he tried to kill me when I was 15, so I went at him with a crowbar and fell in love instead.”

Mickey tries to suppress his smile. “Sounds like a fucking nut job if you ask me.”

“Not once you get to know him. Tough on the outside but all gooey on the inside.”

“You like that in a man?” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Love that in a man. Love him.”

They sit and gaze at each other for a long time while the truth sits heavy between them.

They play a game of pool and do a lot of eye fucking while insulting the shit out of each other. It’s the best time he’s had since… He doesn’t want to finish that thought. After they leave, he walks Ian to his car and the fact it feels like a date doesn’t escape him. Ian has parked down a quiet side street and he’s glad no one is around. Mickey can feel Ian getting more anxious by the second. Perhaps Ian thought tonight would be something…more.

Ian turns to face him and grabs his hand. He has tears in his eyes and Mickey wants to look away, but he doesn’t. “Mick, I just want you to be happy. I really fucking do. Even if it’s not with me.” 

Mickey places a hand around Ian’s neck and pulls him in for a gentle kiss, then they rest their foreheads together. “Ian, I always wanted it to be you. Loved you since I was 17.” He steps back to look at his green-eyed beauty. “Look after yourself, Gallagher,” he says, giving a light pat to Ian’s cheek. He backs up, one, two steps, taking him in, then turns and walks away.

** 2 DAYS LATER… **

Mickey is in the kitchen, setting the table for dinner while Toby finishes cooking. They often sit in front of the TV to eat, but Toby has been keen to sit at the table so they can talk more. And after what Ian told him two days ago about Toby suspecting him of cheating it now makes more sense. 

Toby is talking to him about someone from work and he’s throwing out a ‘hmm’ and an ‘ah’ and a ‘yeah’ but he’s not focussed on the conversation. Mickey is still back at Barney Callahan’s or in Ian’s house, or outside his showroom, or at the hospital, or anywhere else where his recent memories with Ian want to take him. At night, before he falls asleep, he revisits the dugout, the bleachers, the Gallagher house and even the old Milkovich house. Perhaps he is comparing the two Ian’s, checking off what is the same and what is different and if they amount to pros or cons. 

_Your heart will eventually win out_. Mandy’s words filter through his thoughts.

“Just going to get changed before dinner, Tobes,” he says, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs. Mickey strips out of his work clothes and pulls on some sweats and a T-shirt. Part of him wants to ask Toby why he went to see Ian. Maybe because it will force his hand, stop him from being a coward. Being afraid. 

_Your heart will eventually win out_. 

He’s scared to love Ian, similar to how he felt the first time around when he was 17. More so now because he knows how that ended. He had been afraid to love again when he got out of prison. Mickey had genuine love for Toby, but it was a reserved love—he hadn’t given all of himself to Toby. Recognising that, he understands now that he misled Toby, when Toby had always been all in. 

_Your heart will eventually win out_. 

He needs to take a leap of faith. Is he prepared to do that? To take that risk? Is he prepared to bear the responsibility of ending this marriage and hurting Toby? Toby, who doesn’t deserve it.

“Mickey, dinner is on the table.”

He is still deep in his thoughts when he sits at the dinner table. Both plates are on the table, but Toby is standing by the sink, looking out the window into the back yard. “Tobes, it smells great. You sitting down?”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

It’s like his heart drops into the pit of his stomach and he puts his knife and fork down carefully on the table. Toby still hasn’t turned to face him.

“You’re always going to love him. It’s always been him.”

Mickey knows he could lie again. Deny it, tell Toby he’s being paranoid. But maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe it’s time he let his heart decide. His bottom lip is quivering, and tears begin to make their way down his cheeks. Toby slowly turns to face him, a look of acceptance on his face.

“I don’t want to be your second choice, Mick. I deserve more than that. I _want_ more than that.”

Toby almost looks sorry for him, standing stoic at their kitchen sink while Mickey wipes at his tears. He stands up, the chair scraping across the floor and making a horrid sound. “I’m sorry, Toby. I know there’s nothing I can say to fix this. And you don’t fucking deserve it. I do love you.”

Toby walks towards him, stopping about a foot in front of him. “I know you do. But you’re in love with him. I’ve thought about this a lot and I think you should leave.”

Mickey can only nod, it feels like something is stuck in his throat. “I’ll pack a bag, then we’ll sort out a time later for me to get the rest.” He moves out of the kitchen and heads upstairs. Grabbing a large sports bag, he puts a weeks’ worth of clothes in, grabs his toiletries and a few pairs of shoes. At the last minute he adds his phone charger. He can’t think straight, and his hands are shaking. 

When he comes back downstairs Toby is sitting in front of the TV, but it’s not turned on. “Toby, are you going to be okay?”

Toby stands up and joins him at the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah, I am. I don’t hate you, Mick. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and it’s right for both of us. You would have made the same decision any day now. I just wanted to beat you to the jump. Do it on my own terms.”

“Can I hold you?” He doesn’t have any right to ask, but he thinks they both need it.

Toby pulls him in, and they hold tight for a few seconds, then Toby lets him go.

*

Mickey finds himself in a hotel room. He could have gone to Iggy’s, but he wants to be alone. A terrible, selfish part of him wants to go straight to Ian’s but he won’t disrespect Toby like that. Instead, he calls Mandy and tells her what’s happened. She asks him if he’s happy with what’s happened. He is. He’s ready. Toby just beat him to the punch and that’s okay because the man still has his dignity, and he deserves that and more. Mickey orders room service and gets a few mouthfuls down. Realising he’s dead tired, he crawls under the blankets and sleeps. 

The next morning he calls Sam and tells him he’s not coming into work. It’s Friday, he thinks. He calls hotel reception and books the room for a second night. There’s a lot to think about—where he’s going to live, for starters. And Ian. Spending the day alone is what he needs to get his head straight.

*****

Ian is searching through the fridge, the freezer and the pantry trying to find something to cook for dinner. He’s tired out after meeting Fiona for coffee during his lunch break. She was standoffish and distant at first, then thawed a little by the end. They had a long way to go to patch things up. It made sense - Fiona had been dead against Brad, even warning him, and he just ignored her. She had been like his Mom and he rebelled against her just to prove a point. Well, he fucked up good by not listening to her. She agreed to meet for coffee again next week so he figures he’s making progress.

Lucinda is at a sleepover. They’ve become so close since the separation that he misses her when she’s not there. With no distractions, his mind wanders to Mickey. Since their dinner a few nights ago, he’s been in a funk. He had stupidly gotten his hopes up, thinking Mickey was ready to leave Toby. Now he’s back to waiting, not even knowing if he can contact Mickey again. Slumping down on the kitchen bench, he rests his head in his hands and lets out a sigh. His body aches for Mickey and he considers going to bed to jerk off to his memories. That’s the state of his life right now. And it’s only 7pm.

The doorbell rings, and he lifts himself up muttering, “better not be a fucking salesman,” on his way to the door. Not even checking the peephole he flings the door open ready to be an asshole to whoever is on the other side.

“Mick?”

“Turns out I already met the right guy too. He came at me with a crowbar, but I fell in love instead.” Mickey smiles at him; that big beautiful open smile where his eyes twinkle.

“But..what..Mick? What does-”

“Come here.”

Mickey surges forward, capturing his lips and slamming him against the wall. His body explodes with heat as Mickey licks into his mouth and their tongues touch. Hands are everywhere, as they grab and cling and squeeze and stroke each other. He flips them so Mickey is against the wall and pushes their cocks together, both already so hard.

“Fuck Mickey,” he gasps as he detaches his lips only to reattach them to Mickey’s throat, where he bites and then sucks, desperate to consume the man in his arms. Mickey moans and grabs his ass, pulling their bodies closer as Ian returns to suck on Mickey’s bottom lip. 

Mickey grabs his face and pulls their lips apart. “Should we talk?”

Ian is panting uncontrollably. “Are you mine?”

Mickey smiles and nods, “I’m yours.”

“Then talk later.” Grabbing Mickey’s hand, he drags him toward the bedroom. He would happily fuck Mickey up against the wall or bend him over the couch, but the lube is in the bedroom. The moment they enter the room, Mickey shoves him onto the bed.

“Get your fucking clothes off Gallagher and save the foreplay for later, I’m ready.”

Ian is about to rip his T-shirt over his head, when he hears, ‘I’m ready’ and stops in his tracks. Mickey already has his shirt off and is in the process of removing his sweats—no boxers in sight—cock suddenly begging for attention. “What do you mean you’re ready? You prep yourself?”

Mickey laughs, grabs Ian’s sweats and boxers and rips them off him. As Ian pulls his T-shirt over his head, he says, “You’re a presumptuous fucker.” Throwing the shirt off the bed, he realises Mickey has stopped laughing, is motionless, and frowning. “Fuck, you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” he asks, instantly panicked.

Mickey points at him and he follows to where he is pointing. The tattoo. “Oh shit. You don’t like it? I’m sorry, Mick. I needed it. Needed you to be with me while I waited.”

Mickey climbs onto the bed, eyes glued to it, then brushes his thumb across the letters. “Mick, I can-” Mickey cuts him off by kissing him and they fall back onto the bed. And somehow it's hard and soft and deep and delicate all at once. And Mickey is on top of him, and it feels perfect.

Mickey pulls away and starts kissing down his neck and onto his chest, licking at one nipple while he pinches the other, before sitting up and straddling him. “I don’t like it, I fucking love it. Now lube up and fuck me.”

Ian needs no further invitation, leaning over to the nightstand and pulling the lube out of the top draw. Mickey grows inpatient and snatches it out of his hands. Mickey strokes his cock as he spreads lube down his shaft, remembering to swirl his thumb over his slit like he loves. He moans and pumps eagerly up into Mickey’s hand a few times.

They fuck in almost every position they can think of; both kneeling so he can suck on Mickey’s neck and whisper dirty things in his ear, reverse cowboy—what a fucking view and Mickey goes slow to tease him, and standing up against the window. He lets Mickey ride him fast until the signs of fatigue set in, then flips Mickey onto his back, hoists one leg over his shoulder and fucks him hard and deep. They are dripping in sweat when Mickey releases into Ian’s hand and shoots across his stomach. The pleasure on Mickey’s face, the way he throws his head back into the pillow, and the bliss of his moans set off one of the most powerful orgasms of Ian’s life. Mickey is his. And he’s never going to let him go again.

Reluctantly, Ian pulls out, then leans down, gently lapping at Mickey’s softening cock before licking across his stomach and collecting his cum. His eyes are closed, and he hums with the satisfaction of Mickey’s taste in his mouth, something he didn’t get to experience during their night together.

“Fuck Ian, get up here.”

He collapses down beside Mickey, facing him, and they hold each other as they tangle their legs together. As he kisses Mickey’s lips, then cheeks, then forehead, the whole situation starts to sink in. “Mick, can’t believe you’re really here. You okay? You want to talk about it?”

“I left yesterday. The last couple of months I was so fucking lost. Didn’t know what to do. But Mandy told me my heart would win out so when Toby questioned me about how I felt. Bout you. I couldn’t deny it anymore. We didn’t fight. It was amicable.”

“Did you stay at Iggy’s last night?”

“No, I booked into a hotel. My stuff is still there. Needed somewhere to stay until I sort out where I’m going to live.”

Ian’s body goes rigid at Mickey’s words. His heart sinking, he looks away from Mickey, trying to hide his emotions.

Mickey lifts Ian’s chin, “Hey, what’s wrong. Ian, look at me.”

Ian closes his eyes, takes a breath, then opens them again, taking in Mickey’s concerned face.

“Ian, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“I thought we were going to be together now you’ve left Toby. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course we’re going to be together. You just fucked my brains out and I’m lying naked in your bed. How much more together do you want?”

“But you’re going to find your own place.”

“Well, you have Lu. I can’t just bust in on your lives.”

“You wouldn’t be Mick. I’ve told Lu about you now. About us. And she’s all for it. She’s fifteen next week and off with her friends and doing her cheerleading. I’ll talk to her to make sure she’s okay with it, but I know she will be. Mick, at least stay for the weekend. Think about it some more before you decide.”

“Don’t _you_ need time to think about it?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve had nineteen years to think about it. I want you, Mick. Fucking need you. Here. In my life. Haven’t we wasted enough time?” Mickey just stares at him. Ian can see it’s not an option Mickey has even entertained.

“Okay, I’ll stay for the weekend and we’ll talk more. Where is Lu anyway?”

“She’s at a sleepover. Be home tomorrow, probably late morning.”

“You saying we got the whole night to ourselves?” Mickey slides a hand around his neck and pulls him in for a soft, sensual kiss.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And this apartment has quite a good set up, anyway. This is the only bedroom at this end. Lu’s bedroom is on the other side of the kitchen and living room and has its own ensuite. I can’t even hear her loud music when I’m in here.” He raises his eyebrows to illustrate his point.

“So you saying we could fuck as loud as we want and she wouldn’t hear?”

“Not a word. And I got a lock on my door too. Hey let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Mickey heads into the bathroom to clean up and Ian throws his boxers back on and heads to the kitchen to start on the food.

*****

They end up ordering from the local Chinese takeout and eat on the floor of the living room. A calmness falls over Mickey, and he relaxes, knowing he has made the right decision. What he has with Ian is special and Toby deserves to have that too. He silently wishes that Toby will find his own Ian one day and forgive him for his mistakes. 

Ian is being a fucking dork, trying to feed him with chop sticks and failing miserably. But they are laughing and kissing and holding hands, and he’s hoping his ginger giant is going to make love to him before the night is out.

After dinner they sit out on the balcony, sipping on beers and sharing a smoke. It’s peaceful and they don’t even talk much. The eye fucking and teasing is intense enough without words. When he’s finishes his third beer of the night, he’s buzzing warm and feeling loose. “You know I love the beard. You turned out fucking hot, Gallagher.” He licks his lips and blows cigarette smoke out his nostrils as his hormones take over. 

He watches Ian palm his own cock and close his eyes. Blood clearly rushing south. “Fuck Mickey, you drive me crazy. Tell me why you love the beard.”

He chuckles and lets his head lull back, taking in the night sky. “What, you mean besides that it looks good?”

“Uh huh and…” Ian tilts his head to the side, lifts one eyebrow and challenges him to answer. This is unfamiliar territory for them. He was always so closed off when they were young, but not now. 

“Feels good against my skin, it’s a little rough but not too rough. And…” He pauses, butting out the smoke, watching Ian’s curiosity get the better of him.

“And…Mick? Tell me...”

“And I’ve been thinking about what it will feel like when you’re between my thighs.”

Ian slides off his chair and starts crawling toward him on his hands and knees. “And tell me, what am I doing between your thighs?”

Mickey’s temperature skyrockets as Ian kneels at his feet, slides his hands up his legs and pushes his thighs open wide. They are too high up to be seen from the street. But it feels risky. “You know what you’ll be doing.”

“But I want you to tell me, Mick.” Ian peppers kisses up his inner thigh, then nuzzles at his hardening cock before working his way down the other leg. 

“You’re sucking me off, and your mouth is wet and warm…” Mickey’s heart is beating fast, his breath coming out in puffs as Ian grabs the waistband of his sweats and starts pulling. He lifts his ass up and suddenly the sweats are around his ankles. His cock has pre-cum leaking from it and he eyes the bulge in Ian’s sweats, wondering if he’s the same.

“Tell me more, Mickey.” Lustful green eyes look up at him and he moans with anticipation.

“Wanna wrap my thighs around your head. Rub them against your beard. Fuck, Ian, touch me.”

Ian sits forward, slowly rubbing his cheek up his thigh, stopping to bite and lick along the way. He’s moving so slow, it’s the most intoxicating torture. Ian’s beard scratches perfectly and he wonders how long he will last once his cock slides into Ian’s mouth.

When Ian grabs hold of his legs and yanks him forward in the seat, he almost yelps in surprise. Ian throws Mickey’s legs over his shoulders and buries his face into Mickey’s crotch, first inhaling and then kissing over his balls and up his cock.

“Jesus Christ, Ian,” he moans, stroking his hands through Ian’s hair. Then Ian sinks his mouth down over his cock—all the fucking way - before slowly pulling almost all the way off and swirling his tongue around the head. As Ian repeats the action Mickey closes his eyes and squeezes his thighs around Ian’s head. Soon Mickey can’t help but press his cock up into Ian’s mouth as he shamelessly rubs his thighs against that beard. 

Ian’s fingers are squeezing into the flesh of his back as he moans and pants around Mickey’s cock like he’s about to cum too. It turns Mickey on even more and he surrenders to the pleasure, shooting deep into Ian’s throat as he fists red hair and cries out into the night. 

*

They watch something on TV for a while. Mickey doesn’t really take it in, he is too distracted laying in Ian’s arms. Ian is stroking his hand, playing with his fingers. They never used to hold hands when they were boys, and Mickey finds he loves it. Ian sweeps his thumb across the heel of his hand and threads their fingers together only to twist slightly and pull them apart. Over and over he does it and Mickey’s so fucking turned on. Everything feels new and exciting while still familiar and loving.

They take a bath together because Ian wants to, and Mickey is all for experiencing the things they never got to do the first time around. Ian is already seated, so he climbs in and settles between Ian’s legs. As he leans back against Ian’s chest, warm arms circle around his waist and lips are pressed to his temple. “This is fucking nice, Ian. We never got to do any of this romantic shit when we were young.” 

Ian chuckles, “You’ve fucking mellowed over the years, Mick. Embraced your inner gay. Having romantic baths and enjoying it. Never thought I’d see Mickey Milkovich in a bubble bath.”

“Fuck off, I can still kick your ass,” he says, but he’s smiling.

“Yeah, but now you’d rather kiss my ass.”

He elbows Ian in the ribs. Lightly.

“Ow, you fucker. Anyway, I like this Mickey. You’ve kept all the good stuff but can now enjoy being softer, more vulnerable.” Ian throws his head back and laughs, thinking he’s funny.

“You’re a fucking dead man, Gallagher,” he says, but with no conviction. Then he tilts his head back, relaxing into Ian’s arms and allowing the man he loves to kiss him deeply. He _is_ soft, and he _is_ vulnerable, and his heart is fucking exploding with love for this man who he’s loved since he was a boy. He knows a tear is rolling down the side of his face and he knows there will be more when they make love, but they are the tears of a man who has finally found his way back home. When Ian pulls back to look at him, he struggles to find the words to convey what he feels so he simply settles on, “I fucking love you, Ian Gallagher.”

“Love you too, Mickey Milkovich.” Ian strokes a hand through his hair. “And no fuck ups this time. This is it, Mick. You and me til we’re old and grey.”

He presses their lips together again, before settling with his head back against Ian’s chest. “Old and grey, Gallagher. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

*****

Once they have finished their bath, Ian takes Mickey to bed. They take their time with each other, gentle hands roam over heated skin, soft lips press to sensitive spots, they lick and nibble and cradle each other as their limbs entwine. Ian knows he could happily spend all night making out with Mickey. Little sighs and moans escape every time their tongues touch, or their cocks slide together, and it fills Ian up with love. He’s kissed Mickey from his head to his toes and back again. He’s had Mickey under him and over him, and when he can’t hold off any longer, he pushes inside him. Mickey bites down on his bottom lip, eyes closing, moaning with the ecstasy of being filled up.

“Look at me, Mick,” he whispers as he rolls his hips slowly.

Mickey looks up at him, touches his face and connects their lips. Ian loves Mickey under him like this, face to face—something they rarely did as boys. Mickey wraps his legs around his body and slides his hands down to his ass, then starts rocking up as Ian thrusts down. The way they move together is fucking erotic; deep and slow and sensual. In perfect sync. Their chests are flush, Mickey’s cock pressing into his belly, and he can’t stop himself from moaning into Mickey’s mouth. He whispers all the things he never had the courage to say before; how beautiful he is, how perfect, how special, how much he loves him, how much he hopes to marry him one day. 

Mickey pants under him, uttering ‘Ian, oh fuck Ian’ and ‘feels perfect’ and ‘yes’ as he squeezes Ian’s ass, wanting always deeper, deeper. They make love for a long time, finally falling over the edge together, while still rocking slow. They wipe at each other’s tears and declare their love as they pulse and shudder against one another. It’s the most intense sexual experience he’s ever had, knowing that they are finally where they belong. Together. Forever.

When he can bear to separate from Mickey, he gets a warm facecloth and cleans him, then brings him a glass of water and his smokes and a fresh pair of boxers to wear. They open a window and share a smoke, sitting up in bed, Mickey between his legs. He wants to take care of Mickey this time around. Let him know how much he loves him, that he means everything. Ian has a lot to make up for, and he’s more than ready.

The last thing he remembers as sleep beckons is the two of them being tangled together as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

*****

Lucinda lets herself in the front door, expecting to see her Dad in the kitchen or reading on the sofa like he often does on a Saturday. She’s come home earlier than expected, but it’s after ten and the apartment is silent. Frowning, she puts her bag down and moves into the living room, “Dad?” she calls out. Her heart drops, thinking he is in bed, experiencing a depressive phase. She scolds herself for going on a sleepover when so much had been going on in their lives. Rushing down the hall, she turns the corner and steps into her Dad’s room to find him…sound asleep with Mickey.

She opens her mouth wide with shock, then slaps her hands over her mouth as she realises she doesn’t want to wake them. Well not yet anyway. Thankfully they have their boxers on, but they must be cold, not even a sheet over them. They look happy and peaceful and desperately in love. She creeps closer, smiling at the sight. They are facing each other, legs tangled and arms tight around each other. Their faces are smooched together, and it’s possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen. There’s an innocence and purity to them, like they are two teenage boys. Lucinda hasn’t experienced romantic love yet, but if this is it, then she wants it someday too. 

Grabbing the sheet from the bottom of the bed, she pulls it up over them, being careful not to wake them, then closes the door to let them sleep. 

After changing into some comfy clothes, she makes her way to the kitchen, excited to make a big breakfast for them. The year has been a complete roller coaster for her, but things are improving. It’s her fifteenth birthday next week, and she knows about the BMW already purchased for her. Six months ago, that sort of thing was all she cared about—clothes and popularity and parties. 

Then two things happened almost at the same time. First, her Dad seemed to change virtually overnight, and they started talking again. He was happier and had energy, and it reminded her of how close they were when she was little. And she realised she not only wanted that back, but she needed it. She is proud of how her Dad has turned his life around the last few months—standing up for himself, completing his course and getting the job he wanted. 

Living in that house had become unbearable. It felt like a funeral home – depressing and oppressive. Dad had become like a zombie over the years and Pops didn’t care, he just became an asshole. She knows she shouldn’t say that about him, but it’s true, and while she loves him, she doesn’t like him. When it dawned on her that she was turning into him, treating her Dad just like Pops did, she hated herself.

The second thing that happened was a girl at school committed suicide after being bullied for not wearing the ‘right’ clothes or having the latest iPhone. Lucinda knew her. They had been friends in middle school. Lucinda had dumped her when they started high school because the popular girls didn’t like her. Lucinda still hasn’t talked about it yet, and she knows she needs to because some days she is racked with guilt. But it had been a big wake-up call. She had been headed down the wrong path but now she’s fixing it. And she’s proud of herself for the first time in a long time.

Once she’s cooked the pancakes, bacon and eggs, she puts them in the oven to keep them warm and heads back down to her Dad’s bedroom. They are still sound asleep, but she’s dying to hear what’s going on and doesn’t want to wait any longer. After Dad told her their entire history, she’s team Mickey all the way. Please, please let this be a good thing, she silently prays. It occurs to her they might be having an affair, and briefly considers backing out of the room.

“Morning,” her Dad purrs to Mickey as his hand moves under the sheet. 

“Huh hmm!” she says, pretending to clear her throat to get her Dad’s attention, eyes firmly fixed up at the ceiling.

“Oh shit! Lu, you scared the fuck out of me.”

“Language, Dad. You always remind me.”

“Sorry pumpkin,” Dad says, sitting up. “When did you get home? What time is it?”

Mickey is stirring and rubbing his eyes. “Oh fuck!” he says, pulling the sheet up to his chin.

“Language Mickey,” Dad says.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Mickey replies.

Lucinda giggles, “You two are hilarious. I just came to tell you I made a big breakfast and to come and eat. Dad, I feel like you might have something to tell me.” She winks at him, because she can be a smart ass just like her Dad, then leaves the room.

*****

Once Lucinda leaves, Mickey relaxes and drops the sheet. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be wrapped around the finger of two Gallagher’s?”

“That’s a realistic possibility. But how about I wrap myself around you instead,” Ian replies, rolling on top and kissing him. 

Mickey pushes him off, laughing. “Not now, you horny bitch. Your daughter made us breakfast and is in the next room. Move your ass, I need some clothes.”

Ian obliges and finds him some sweats and a T-shirt. They both head into the bathroom to piss and make themselves presentable before heading out to the kitchen. Mickey is nervous about how this will go with Lucinda. He wants her to like him and accept him. How the weekend goes will decide if he moves in or not. Lucinda’s happiness takes precedence.

The kitchen table is set out with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast. There is OJ and a fresh pot of coffee and it all smells great. He’s hungry as fuck after only eating one meal yesterday. They sit down and Lucinda has that same bloody smirk on her face that Ian gets. It won’t be hard to love this kid, he thinks.

“Lucinda, this looks amazing. Thanks for cooking it,” he says, helping himself to a bit of everything.

“Mickey, you can call me Lu, everyone does.”

Mickey smiles at Ian, and Ian squeezes his hand. “You’re a fucking good cook, Lu,” he says, shovelling pancakes in his mouth. “Sorry, got to remember not to curse so much.”

Lucinda giggles, “Dad’s just as bad. Seems you can take the man out of Southside, but you can’t take Southside out of the man.”

“Your Dad’s a soft bitch these days. Should have seen him back in the day.”

“Hey, I’m not that soft. Take a look in the mirror, Mick.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, Gallagher.”

“Mickey, I’d love to hear your stories about Dad. You two met when he was my age, right?”

Mickey looks at Ian and they smile. They are both fucking saps and he reaches out and holds Ian’s hand. “Sure Lu, I can tell you a story or two bout your Dad.”

They have a great breakfast and Mickey feels at home. Lucinda asks the big questions and by the time they are clearing the table, she knows that he’s left his marriage and that he and her Dad are officially together. Committed. She smiles when they tell her, and she kisses Ian on the cheek. “I’m happy for you two. It’s a fairytale ending and you both deserve some happiness. Are you moving in, Mickey?”

He looks at Ian, not knowing what to say.

Ian takes the lead, “Lu, Mickey doesn’t want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. We can talk later and you can think about it and-”

“What’s to decide, Dad? Mickey should move in. You’ve waited nineteen years and you guys are getting old.”

“Hey, we’re not that old,” Ian complains.

Lucinda walks up to him, “I’m serious Mickey. Don’t let me stand in the way. I can see you two love each other and I trust my Dad. If it makes you feel any better, it can be on a trial basis. How does that sound?”

Mickey looks to Ian, who is smiling like the cat that caught the mouse. “Told you. The girl has spoken.”

“Okay. Trial basis. And if you want me to leave at any time, I will.”

“Well as long as you love my Dad and look after him that will never happen. So don’t fuck it up.”

“Language,” they both say, before the three of them burst out laughing.

“Welcome to the family, Mickey,” Lucinda says and pulls him in for a hug. She holds on tight, hugging just like Ian, and he wraps his arms around her, stunned by her willingness to accept him. He watches Ian brush a tear off his cheek then turn back to the dishwasher. Lucinda lets him go and steps back. “Okay, I’ve got some studying to do and then maybe we can watch a movie later?”

“Yeah, we’d love that, wouldn’t we, Mick?” Ian asks.

“As long as Lu’s picking and not you. You’ve got shit taste in movies.”

Ian frowns at him, “Yeah, and when you wind up watching a rom-com you might change your mind about that.”

Mickey feels his face blush, “Maybe these days I enjoy watching a rom-com every now and again.”

Lucinda laughs, “Suck it, Dad. Mickey and I want to watch a rom-com.”

Lucinda heads off to her room to study, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

“Told you, Mick. Come here.”

Mickey walks into Ian’s open arms and nuzzles into his neck. He thinks of Mandy's words and smiles. His heart won. And it feels fucking perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I still have quite a lot more to tell in this story and I'm going to enjoy it! Lot's more romance and growth for these two!! There will either be one more long chapter (8-10k) OR I will split it into two shorter ones of 4-5k each. Then there will an amazing epilogue - of substance - that I'm very excited about! So it will be 13 (or 14) chapters depending on if I split the next chapter or not. 
> 
> ** If you read "Manhandled" I have now added the second part - called "Go Slow" if you would like to check it out!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!!  
> Please kudos, comment, subscribe, user subscribe if you are enjoying this work!  
> Have an awesome weekend and take care  
> Rachael x


	12. New beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little time jump here - eight months after Mickey landed on Ian's doorstep.
> 
> I looked at my plot outline for chapter 12 and was feeling overwhelmed by how much content there was! Realising it was going to be 10k+ I made the decision to break it up into three chapters! This chapter kind of bridges to the next two - there will be a lot happening in chapters 13 and 14. Chapter 15 being a substantial epilogue The big chapters really take it out of me and this seems more manageable right now with my life circumstances. Hope that's ok!?
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**_ Eight months later (early 2035) _ **

Ian is on his way to pick up Mickey from MM Makeovers. Lucinda is with Brad for the weekend, so they are going out for dinner to celebrate. His divorce was finalised almost two months ago and Mickey’s last week. It feels fucking fantastic to no longer be married to other people. It clears the way for them to…damn, he wants to marry Mickey so much, but he knows they need more time together before they jump into another marriage. Ian knows Mickey wants that too, but Ian needs to be patient—the ink on the divorce papers isn’t even dry yet. 

Mickey had moved straight in with him and Lucinda and despite a few hiccups they quickly settled into a routine. They argue over stupid things like who’s turn it is to stack the dishwasher and Mickey is a jealous bitch every time a guy looks in his direction, but they are still in their honeymoon phase fucking each other senseless. Ian feels like a teenager again, permanently hard and horny. Life is damned good. 

Ian couldn’t be happier about the bond Lucinda and Mickey have formed. Mickey will do pickups and drop offs whenever Ian can’t because of his EMT shifts, and seeing the two of them come in the front door after cheer practise discussing up-and-coming competitions and the latest cheer bitch fight never fails to amuse him and fill his heart in equal measure. The two of them even stick together to get what they want, and he doesn’t mind it one fucking bit. 

Ian had asked Lucinda to keep his and Mickey’s relationship a secret until the divorce came through—he didn’t want to risk the settlement. Lucinda knew what was at stake and happily obliged. After legal fees, he came out with 1.9 million. By the time the money came through they had already signed another six-month lease on the apartment. Soon they will start searching for something more permanent. 

Ian has primary custody of Lucinda, with Brad having her every second weekend. At Lucinda’s request, they had it stipulated in the custody agreement that once she turned sixteen, she could arrange when and how she would see her father. Lucinda doesn’t like Chad, so Ian suspects that may play a part in how much she sees Brad in the future.

Mickey and Toby’s divorce was straightforward and amicable. Mickey had decided to leave Toby with their house and just walk away with his business and his car. Once Ian knew that Toby had given Mickey the start-up capital for MM Makeovers it seemed only fair. Mickey’s business has since exploded with new corporate work and between the two of them they have more money than they need.

Ian pulls up in the parking lot just before 6pm and heads inside. Making his way across the showroom floor towards Mickey’s office he calls out, “Just me, Mick,” as he approaches. Mickey appears in the door of his office, eyes wide and full of nervous energy. “What’s happened?” he asks.

“Svet finally answered. Yev’s studying at Illinois Tech and she’s agreed to give him my number. He’ll call if he wants to make contact.”

Ian kisses Mickey then pulls him in for a hug. “Looks like we’ve got two things to celebrate tonight.” He steps back and cups Mickey’s jaw with one hand, “How do you feel?”

“Fucking nervous. What if he doesn’t call?”

“Mick, he’s twenty. You _can_ contact him. I know you wanted to ‘okay it’ with Svet first, but he’s a man now and you don’t need her approval.”

“I know, I know. Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

Mickey had been in two minds about trying to contact Yev but Ian believes the issue had come to a head, in part, as a result of being around Lucinda. He supports Mickey and hopes that Yev might come back into their lives in some capacity.

“Give him a week or two and if you haven’t heard anything then I think you should go ahead and contact him. Okay?” 

“Okay. How was your day off?” Mickey asks.

“Better now I’m with you,” he replies before connecting their lips again, Mickey welcoming his tongue as they draw each other in and kiss deeply.

“Fuck, Gallagher, let’s get out of here before you fuck me over my desk, and we miss our reservation again.”

Ian moans, “Jesus Mick, don’t mention me fucking you if you don’t want me to fuck you.”

Mickey grabs his work bag and sweeps past him out the door, a grin on his face. “Keep in it your pants for now and I’ll ride you all night. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Ian follows like a lost puppy; he’d follow Mickey Milkovich anywhere.

*****

Mickey will gladly admit he’s never been happier in his life. He was worried about moving straight in with Ian and Lucinda, but it’s like they were always a family. Mickey loves Lucinda with all his heart. She’s smart and sassy and has welcomed him into her life. Dropping her at school or picking her up from cheer practise makes him feel useful in a way he never thought possible. They chat about everything, and laugh, and gang up on Ian just for fun. Simple shit like what movie they watch, or where to go on holiday, or what to have for dinner. Ian has no chance against the two of them combined. Mostly, Mickey cherishes the time the three of them spend together.

Perhaps spending time with Lucinda is what finally motivated him to do something about Yev. Ian is supporting him all the way, and that means the world to him. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, he knows the chances of Yev wanting him in his life are miniscule, but he wants to try anyway. Developing a father-daughter relationship with Lucinda has opened his eyes to the fact that it’s never too late. Just because he missed the better part of two decades doesn’t mean he has to lose the next three or four. Getting his divorce through last week is a sign his life is restarting, and now hearing from Svet it seems like everything is heading in the right direction.

They have a romantic dinner in a fancy restaurant and all Mickey can think about is marrying Ian. How long will he need to wait to propose? Ian is finally free from a fucked-up marriage of sixteen years and probably needs some time before he jumps into another one, but all Mickey wants is to put a ring on it. Fuck, he never thought he would become a man that wanted, needed, to be married, but he does, more than anything. Every time another man looks at Ian, he explodes with jealousy. They’ve even had fights over it. Mickey feels like he did when he was a boy, wanting to consume and be consumed by Ian Gallagher.

And boy-o-boy do they consume each other—every day and sometimes twice. Their sex life is off the charts—better than it ever was years ago, and it was something special then. Now they have freedom; physical, emotional, and sexual. They alternate between making love and dirty fucks and he loves it. One day they are making love in a room full of candles with soft music and the next Ian has him tied up, slapping his ass and fucking him hard. Mickey is deeply satisfied. He loves Ian so fucking much.

By the time they finish up with dessert, Ian is looking at him like he’s about to crawl under the table and blow him right there in the restaurant. “You got something on your mind, Gallagher?” he teases, licking his lips to drive Ian crazy.

“Tease all you want, Mick. You might be in control right now but we both know you’ll be on your back spreading your legs for me the moment we get home.”

Fuck! He loves it when Ian talks dirty. He loves letting go, submitting, being held down. His cock is hardening as he imagines lying naked, opening his legs, spreading his ass cheeks as Ian watches, green eyes turning black with desire. “Ian, take me the fuck home.”

Ian throws cash on the table, stands up and grabs his hand, pulling him up. The moment they exit the restaurant, Ian shoves him up against a wall and kisses him, all tongue, while that huge cock presses into his stomach. Mickey is already planning on blowing Ian in the car on the way home—sending him to the edge but never letting him cum. Ian pulls his lips away, out of breath and panting, and they hurry toward their car.

Mickey notices Ian’s hand go rigid even before he stops walking. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he spots the problem. Brad and Chad are walking briskly toward them. Ian never sees Brad anymore—simply dropping or picking Lu up from Brad’s without getting out of the car. Brad has only recently heard about Mickey and is of the understanding they have just started dating. Mickey is about to redirect Ian across the road when Brad spots them.

“Ian,” Brad drawls loudly. “Nice night to be out on a date, isn’t it?” Brad and Chad come to a stop in front of them and after looking at Ian with disgust, Brad stares down his nose at Mickey. Ian has told him a lot about Brad since they’ve been back together, and he really would like to bury the motherfucker.

“Brad. Guess this must be the Chad I’ve heard so much about,” Ian says, gripping Mickey’s hand tightly.

“And you must be the infamous Ian. Quite the kooky character I’m led to believe,” Chad pipes in, laughing.

Mickey steps forward in front of Ian and sizes Chad up. “Pretty boy, why don’t you stick to sucking your daddy’s cock and shut the fuck up.”

“Wow, Ian. Moving up in the world, I see. What a class act,” Brad says, dripping in sarcasm.

Ian drops his hand and moves up beside him. Mickey knows Ian will want to defend him, but he doesn’t want him to. Ian shouldn’t have to deal with this fucker anymore. 

Ian has that shit-eating grin on his face, “Brad, you think you’re so fucking smart but you’re nothing but a weak little bitch that uses money and manipulation to get what you want.”

“Got you, didn’t it? But then again, you used to get on your knees just for a free meal.”

The words flip a switch somewhere deep inside of Mickey and he instantly burns with rage. He lunges forward without a second thought, cocking his fist as he goes, but Ian has a hold of him before the punch lands. He fights against Ian, thrashing to get away from his grasp as he yells at Brad, “You motherfucking piece of shit. I’ll fucking bury you.”

Brad and Chad are moving backwards while he is still advancing—Ian has his arms trapped, but he can still power forward. He can hear Ian telling him to stop but the only thing he cares about is the hatred in his gut. 

Ian moves and blocks his path to Brad and holds Mickey’s shoulders tight. “Mickey, stop! He’s not worth it. He’ll press charges.” Ian lets go of his shoulders and cups his face in both hands, whispering, “Mickey, I can’t lose you again. Please don’t.”

Mickey can feel the fear emanating off Ian, green eyes boring into him, pleading his case. He fights the anger inside him, this intense desire to make the world right, to defend Ian’s honour. It’s his job, after all—to protect Ian. But he understands what Ian is saying. With his record, he could end up back in prison if he does any damage. And he wants to do so much fucking damage. He slows his breathing and nods his acquiescence.

Brad and Chad are moving away, Chad pushing his luck by yelling over his shoulder, “You two fucking psychos deserve one another.”

Ian kisses him hard, then pulls him into a hug. “Thank you,” Ian whispers as they hold each other in the street. 

*****

It’s two weeks after their confrontation with Brad and Chad when Lucinda calls Ian from Brad’s house. Ian’s first instinct is to panic—Lucinda only texts when she’s there, never calls.

“You okay, pumpkin?” are the first words out of his mouth upon answering.

“Yeah Dad, I’m fine. I just thought you should know Pops got out of hospital yesterday. He was mugged and bashed. He still looks really bad. His face is swollen and bruised, and he has a broken arm and two broken ribs.”

“Jesus Christ, really? Should you be there this weekend? Should I come get you? Is Chad looking after him?”

“Yeah, Chad is looking after him. We’re going to watch a movie soon since cos he can’t do much else. Not that we ever really do anything. Dad, I’m not going to spend weekends here after I turn sixteen. Maybe I’ll just come for dinner once a week. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Lu. Call me if you want to come home tomorrow instead of Sunday.”

“Okay, I will. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. Bye pumpkin.”

“Bye Dad.”

Ian places his cell down on the kitchen bench and heads down to the bedroom. His instincts are telling him something he’s not sure he wants to know. Standing in the doorway, he watches Mickey pull a T-shirt over his head. “That was Lu on the phone.”

Mickey looks at him, waiting for him to continue, “And…she okay?”

“She’s fine, but Brad got mugged and bashed and just arrived home from the hospital.”

Mickey pulls his work pants off and puts on some sweats without responding.

“Mick, you don’t have anything to say about that?”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, “That’s fucking unfortunate. What were his injuries?”

“Lu said he has a bruised and swollen face, two broken ribs and a broken arm.”

“Shit, sounds serious. But as if I give a fuck.” Mickey walks up to him and stares him straight in the eye. “What, you suddenly care about your ex-husband?”

“Mickey, what did you do?”

“Didn’t do shit Gallagher. Maybe he finally got what was coming to him.”

Mickey has turned away from him and Ian knows he’s lying his ass off. It appears Mickey Milkovich went all upper-class thug and hired someone to do his dirty work for him because there’s no busted knuckles in sight. Ian’s not sure why, but his cock is hardening in his pants as he watches Mickey walk back over to his work pants and put them on a hanger. “Mickeeey…” Ian walks into the room and presses himself to Mickey’s back as he hangs the pants in the wardrobe.

“What’s got you so turned on, Gallagher?” Mickey says, the smile evident in his voice.

Ian kisses up Mickey’s neck as he snakes his arms around Mickey’s waist and straight down into the sweats. Ian cups Mickey’s hardening cock and squeezes. “The same thing that’s got you turned on, it seems.”

Ian pulls Mickey’s sweats and boxers down over his hips, that perfect ass looking very appetising. While sucking on Mickey’s neck he pulls his own sweats and boxers down and slides his cock between Mickey’s ass cheeks. “Were you defending my honour?” he whispers in Mickey’s ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

Mickey chuckles and rocks his ass back against his cock. Fucking tease. “Ian, you’re mine and nobody disrespects what’s mine. Southside rules.”

Ian flips Mickey around roughly and grasps both their dicks in his hand and jerks them slowly. Ian loves the feeling of their cocks together and hungrily licks into Mickey’s mouth as his arousal builds. When he pulls away, Mickey’s eyes are hooded, his skin flushed. “Guess I better fuck you Southside style then.”

Mickey groans and lets Ian manhandle him over to the bed. Ian grabs the lube and pushes Mickey forward onto his hands and knees. “Head down,” he instructs as he positions himself behind. Ian slicks up his fingers and teases at Mickey’s hole before sliding one finger in, Mickey instantly pushing back. “You a tough guy, huh?” he says as he pumps his finger in and out with one hand while he strokes his own cock with the other.

“Wanted to bury that motherfucker.”

Ian goes straight to three fingers, slowing down for a while so Mickey can adjust, then stretches Mickey as he rubs occasionally over his prostate. Mickey is moaning and thrusting back on his fingers and Ian’s cock throbs hard and heavy. “Tell me, Mick. Why do you want to bury that motherfucker?”

Ian pulls his fingers out and lubes his cock as fast as he can. His fingers are shaking, and his cock is leaking. Mickey has started stroking himself in the absence of his fingers. Fuck, he needs to get in him.

“Ian, hurry the fuck up. Need you.” 

Ian kneels behind and pushes in, the sound of their groans filling the room. “Tell me, Mickey, why?” He thrusts into Mickey hard and fast, a desperate and urgent need to cum.

“Cos nobody fucking hurts you and gets away with it.”

Mickey’s words trigger something deep inside him. “Fuck Mickey, ride me,” he says, pulling out and throwing himself onto his back. Mickey is on him in a second, sinking down on his cock, then riding him with abandon. They are both sweating and panting as they near their releases.

“You’re fucking mine, Ian. Wanna cum with your cock deep in my ass.”

Ian places his feet onto the mattress and Mickey takes his hands for support as he thrusts up into Mickey, slamming their bodies together, his thighs burning with the effort. 

“You’re fucking mine too, Mickey. Sexy motherfucker.”

“Fuck Ian, right there, I’m yours Ian, I’m yours,” Mickey moans, head thrown back while he pumps his own cock. Then Mickey shoots across his chest, his ass clenching around his cock, and Ian falls over the edge too. Slamming into Mickey, holding deep as he claims him, filling him with his cum, pleasure spreading through every part of his body. They shake and shudder through their orgasms, sighing and moaning with pleasure and exhaustion. Mickey collapses over him and they swirl their tongues together before Mickey nuzzles into his neck.

“Damn Gallagher, what the hell was that? You nearly fucked me in half.”

Ian strokes up and down Mickey’s back and chuckles. “I guess Southside Mickey still turns me on. Just don’t go doing anything stupid. Well not anymore stupid than what you already did. But Mick,” he pauses, cupping Mickey’s face and lifting him up so he can look into those blue eyes, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They kiss softly; the mood changing as their touches become gentle. Ian loves how they love each other now they are older. It calms him; wraps him up in a feeling of complete safety. Their love feels solid and secure and permanent this time around. And Ian plans on spending the rest of his life making sure Mickey feels exactly the same way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the next two chapters will be normal length chapters - I will aim for Sunday or Monday for the next one. 
> 
> As always I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.   
> Please kudos and subscribe if you are enjoying this fic.
> 
> Take care!   
> Rachael x


	13. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up straight after the previous chapter and covering approximately the next three months.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mickey is sitting in a café near the college campus, waiting for Yev to arrive. He’s been here ten minutes already, leaving work way too early for their 1pm meet time. Checking his watch for the hundredth time, he notes it is one minute later than he last checked. 12.54pm. 

They had spoken briefly on the phone three days ago to set up this meeting and Mickey has been a fucking bitch ever since—his nerves getting the better of him. He has confirmed with Svetlana that Yev knows Mickey is his biological father and they had been married when he was young. Yev knows nothing of his conception, but he knows Mickey is gay. Svet had married a rich old dude named Bob who died when Yev was ten. Bob had provided for them in his will and Yev had grown up with everything he could ever want, including a private school education. 

Svet is living with a woman named Jessica, they’re not married, and Yev still lives with them while he studies engineering at Illinois Tech. He wanted Ian to come with him, but Ian insisted it should just be the two of them for the first time. Ian is right, of course, but it doesn’t help his nerves. 12.56pm. Mickey is about to launch into a full-scale panic about Yev not showing up when his son walks in the door. 

He and Ian had looked at Yev’s social media so he already knows his son looks like him, but a photo has done nothing to prepare him for how it feels to see your own eyes looking back at you. Mickey stands up and waves a hand like a fucking dork and Yev approaches the table with a hesitant smile.

“Hey, it’s Mickey, right?” Yev asks, holding out his hand.

Mickey shakes his son’s hand, remembering the last time he saw him he was only two years old. Now he’s 20 and a few inches taller than Mickey and other than the dirty blonde hair the resemblance is striking. “Yeah, do you go by Yevgeny or just Yev?”

“Yev or Zhenya and some of my friends just call me Zhen. I’m cool with whatever. Should we sit?”

“Fuck yeah, let’s sit. You hungry? You wanna eat something?” he asks while they shuffle into opposite sides of the booth.

Yev smiles at him, the first genuine one. “Yeah definitely, I missed breakfast and I’m fucking starving.”

Mickey passes Yev one of the menu’s and takes the opportunity to just look at him while it distracts him. He seems healthy and happy, and Mickey is really relieved by that. The waitress comes over and they both order and then it’s time to talk. He stares at Yev for a second before getting the nerve to speak. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Yev. I’ve wanted to see you for a long time, but I didn’t want to fuck up your life.”

“Ma told me you were in prison for a long time and then she married Dad…well, Bob, I guess. Fuck sorry.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not having the guts to contact you sooner and for missing out on all those years.”

Yev just stares at him for a few seconds before responding. “I had a good upbringing. Went to a great school, had good friends, went on overseas holidays and all that. Guess I just want to hear your side of the story. Ma won’t tell me much about that part of her life.”

Mickey wonders what his son hopes to hear. “It’s not my place to talk about your Mum. We were both in a fucked-up situation and that’s all I’m going to say bout that. Your grandfather Terry was a fucking racist, homophobic, piece of shit.” Mickey stops and takes a deep breath before he continues. “You know I’m gay, right?”

“Yeah, Ma told me. She’s bi, so I’m cool with it. No judgement here—other than wondering how I came to be.”

Mickey feels a wave of nausea wash over him, followed by the waitress placing their food down on the table. He waits for her to leave before continuing. “Well, as I was saying, your grandfather, my Dad—who’s dead by the way—was the biggest homophobe in Southside. I had to hide deep in the fucking closet. Like Narnia deep. He caught me and Ian banging one time and then I had to, well tried to, prove I was straight. So I married your Mom and along came you. I was young—too fucking young to get married or be a Dad. Then I ended up in prison, which is a story for another day. Look Yev, I thought you’d be better off without me and look at you—you turned out great and you’re making something of yourself—so it was for the best.”

Yev sits quietly while he talks. Neither of them have touched their lunch, and he wonders if he’s said too much too soon. “Hey, eat up,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. Yev picks up his sandwich and takes a bite, so Mickey forces himself to do the same.

“Mickey, I’m sorry you had to live through that shit. I can’t imagine what that was like. I have a mate who’s gay and his parents kicked him out of his house and I know how much that’s affected him. So I’m not gonna judge you for that. I’ve got no complaints about my life. I’ve had it pretty easy. But I’d like to get to know you if you want that?”

Mickey feels a myriad of emotions ripple through him and he wonders if he’s going to tear up in front of his son. “Fuck, I’d really like that too, Yev.”

The rest of their time together goes well, the conversation flows, and Mickey hears all about engineering and college life and a girl named Grace that Yev’s interested in. Yev also likes to draw and play baseball. Mickey can’t believe how normal he is; Svet has done a good job. Then again, she always did love him. 

Eventually Yev asks him if he’s married or has any other kids and he wants to tell his son about Ian, but he’s nervous considering the history. Mickey has no idea if Svet told Yev about Ian, or Ian running off with him. He plans on leaving that story out for as long as possible. “No other kids but I am recently divorced. I was married for eight years, but it just wasn’t right. Ian - the guy my Dad caught me with—we got back together about eight months ago. We live together with his daughter, Lucinda, who is fifteen. And when the timings right, I think we’ll get married.”

“You serious? That’s some fairy-tale romance right there. The guy you were with as a teenager? Did he marry someone else too? I sense there’s more to this story.” Yev is smiling at him and seems genuinely interested.

“Yeah, we were together about four or five years when we were in our teens. He knew you when you were a baby. He loved you, man, and he’s a fucking sap so when you meet him, he’s probably gonna cry. You’ve been warned.” Yev is laughing, and it’s so good to hear. “Ian got married while I was in prison, then we met again last year after nineteen years.”

“And you still had that spark after nineteen years?” Yev asks, amazed.

“It was more like a fucking fire. Nah, in all seriousness, I’ve always loved him. As clichéd as it sounds, he’s _the_ one. I’m grateful we’re getting this second chance.”

“I’m happy for you Mickey, looks like love really does win.”

“Shit man, you and Ian are gonna get along great with corny ass lines like that.”

“Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Yeah? You serious?”

“Of course. I meant it. I want to get to know you. You’re my father.”

“Don’t suppose you’d like to come over for a BBQ on Sunday?”

“Yeah, text me the address and time. I’ll be there. Hey, I gotta run. I got class soon. I want to hear about my aunt and uncle and my cousins next time.”

Mickey pays the bill, and they head out of the café where it gets uncomfortable as they try to navigate the goodbye. He digs deep and says what he wants to. “Yev, thanks for meeting me today. It took me too fucking long to reach out, but I really want you in my life. I understand if it can’t be as your Dad but maybe as a friend…”

“I’m glad you did, you know, reach out. Let’s just start with the BBQ and go from there. It was great meeting you. See you Sunday—text me,” Yev says, backing up the street before giving a wave and heading off towards campus.

Mickey stands on the street for a while until Yev disappears from sight. It feels like a dream and he smiles like a fucking dork. People walking past must think he’s nuts smiling at nothing, but he doesn’t give a shit. He pulls out his cell and calls Ian. Ian is at work, so he won’t answer, but Mickey needs to tell someone. He needs to tell Ian. 

“Hey Ian, I know you can’t pick up, but he wants to meet you. He’s coming for lunch on Sunday. We gotta do a BBQ on the balcony. Ian, he’s fucking smart and kind and fuck Ian! Shit, I feel fucking…I don’t know what I feel but I’m fucking happy I did this. Thank you for pushing me. Call me if can or I’ll see you at home. I’m picking up Lu after cheer practise so we should be home about the same time. Love you.”

Mickey ends the call and heads towards his car, looking forward to telling Ian and Lu all about Yev over dinner.

*****

Ian is driving slowly down a very nice street, searching for the correct house number.

“Ian, this is the last house I’m looking at today. Maybe we are rushing into this? In another year I should be able to contribute a decent amount.”

“Mickey, we’ve been over this. I’m sick of renting. I want us to have our own house that we’ve chosen together. Somewhere we can grow old and grey. Which I’ll remind you, you already agreed to.” He smirks at Mickey, but Mickey only rolls his eyes.

“I agreed to grow old and grey with you, not to being railroaded into buying a huge fucking house.”

They only have three months left on their apartment lease and Ian is feeling panicky. He wants to use most of his divorce settlement to buy a house for them, and Mickey is being a little bitch about it. He knows Mickey doesn’t have a lump sum of capital available to put into the house and he is okay with that—he will put the house in both their names, anyway. They’ve had a few arguments about it, Ian explaining that his EMT wage sucks and Mickey will pay the lion’s share of their bills, evening it out in the end. Mickey’s business is expanding quickly and making an excellent profit, but Mickey needs to invest back into his business to build it to the next level and Ian wants that for him. Lucinda’s college fund is secure and separate, and she can go to whatever school she chooses, so he need not worry about that. 

When they pull up outside the property Ian’s jaw drops. From the outside, it’s perfect. It’s a two-story colonial complete with window shutters and a porch, and Ian is suddenly imagining things he probably shouldn’t. Like little kids and family BBQ’s and sitting on the porch on summer evenings with Mickey when they are old. “Mick, I like this one. Please be open-minded,” he says, still gazing at the house in wonder.

The realtor is waiting for them at the front door and she takes them on a tour. Everything has been renovated and it just says family. It’s big but it still feels cosy. It has lots of light and multiple fireplaces and Ian thinks he is going to be devastated if he doesn’t get this house. Outside is a pool and a beautiful entertaining area. The house is at the absolute limit of his budget—he almost crossed it off his list of places to look at—but right now he doesn’t give a shit. He wants it.

Mickey isn’t giving anything away, but that’s nothing new when they look at properties. Mickey likes to complain and question the realtor regardless of what he thinks. Ian asks the realtor if they could have another look around on their own and she tells them to take their time and will meet them out front. The moment the door clicks shut, Mickey shakes his head and smiles at him. “You gotta get a better poker face, Gallagher. She already knows you’d sell your soul to get this house. How are we supposed to negotiate?”

“Does that mean you like it too? Can we get it?”

“It’s your money, Ian. The question is, can _you_ get it?”

“Mickey, stop with this it’s fucking upsetting me now. This will be _our_ house. I can do this for us, and it’s the best investment for a lump sum of money. With my shit wage, I’ll be relying on you to support me and Lu once we move in. That makes us equal partners. I’m just paying for this and then you’re paying for almost everything else, for fucking years.”

Mickey finally laughs. “Alright, lets look around again and try to be critical this time.”

They head back upstairs and look at all the bedrooms, ending up in the master suite. The house has five bedrooms plus a study downstairs. 

“Ian, do we need a house this big?”

“Well, you never know Mick. We should have a room for Yev in case he wants to stay. And we’ll need two bedrooms for when Mandy and David come and stay with the kids.” Ian is thinking of other reasons too, but they are thoughts he’s not prepared to share yet. He’s not stupid, he wants to get a ring on Mickey’s finger first. Timing is everything, and he’s not fucking anything up this time around.

“You really want it, don’t you?” Mickey asks, softening.

“I love it, Mick. Feels like a real home. And this master bedroom has a fireplace. Which means I’m going to buy one of those cheesy bear skin rugs and make love to you in front of the fire.

“Yeah,” Mickey says, stepping in close and wrapping his arms around Ian’s waist, “what else you gonna do?”

Ian cups Mickeys face and rubs his thumb over his cheek. “I’m gonna get you to slow ride me in the jacuzzi and make you skinny dip with me in the pool at midnight and I’m going to fuck you senseless in every room. You just have to say yes.”

Ian leans forward and kisses Mickey. It’s their first kiss in their—hopefully - new house and he wants it to count so he connects their tongues and pulls their bodies flush together. When Mickey pulls away, he has a smirk on his face. “When could I ever say no to you, Gallagher? I can see you want this house real bad and I love it too, so yes. Let’s get this deal done before you lose your shit.”

They head out and tell the realtor they want to put in an offer. Two days later they sign on the dotted line. The previous owners had already moved out, so they get it on a 30-day settlement. Ian is more excited than a kid on Christmas morning and he and Lucinda shop for new furniture straight away.

*****

A month after they’ve settled into their new house, Mandy and David come to stay with their kids for a long weekend. On Saturday night they have a family dinner, complete with Yev and his girlfriend, Grace. Now that Ian and Lip are close again like they used to be, Lip and Tami come with their kids too. Mickey’s glad Ian has Lip back in his life again—they were always just as much friends as brothers.

He and Ian had been to visit Mandy in New York about five months ago, and ever since then Ian and Mandy had been thick as thieves—always texting and facetiming. Mickey isn’t surprised they’ve rekindled their friendship, and he gets a kick out of listening to them gossip like teenage girls. 

Since his first meeting with Yev, their relationship has developed quickly, and he is already an integral part of their lives; visiting for dinner once a week and keeping in contact via text most days. Mickey can’t believe how accepting and open Yev is - something he really admires about his son. He is grateful for every fucking second he gets to spend with Yev as they move towards a parent-son dynamic. Obviously it’s going to take time, but he already feels a bond growing between them. Ian did cry the first time they met , and since then the two of them have settled into an easy uncle-nephew type relationship.

Standing in their kitchen as they prepare to bring out the food for dinner, he can’t help but think his life is near to perfect. They are surrounded by family. The sounds of chatter, laughter, and kids playing, fill their house and Mickey looks at Ian in his apron and thinks he might laugh and cry at the same time. If teenage Mickey and Ian were here, they wouldn’t believe their fucking eyes. “Ian, how did this…” He doesn’t know how to express what he feels. 

Ian looks up and him and smiles, he knows. “Don’t know Mick, but I’m not going to second guess it. I’m just going to fucking enjoy it.” Ian picks up two platters of food, then leans forward and kisses him softly on the lips. “Love you. Now let’s eat.” Ian heads out of the kitchen, so he picks up the salad and the bowl of potatoes and follows him out.

Once they are all seated, they dig into the food and fall quiet for a minute or two before all the conversations start back up. It’s a noisy table, but in a good way. Mandy is talking to Yev and getting to know her nephew for the first time, Lu is chatting to her Uncle Lip while her cousin Freddie tries to butt in, and Mickey is holding Ian’s hand under the table as he watches them all. 

Mickey zones in on Yev, listening to the conversation; they are talking about college. Mandy’s husband David turns to him and asks, “Hey Mickey, bet you’re proud. Engineering—he’s a smart one.”

Smiling at his son, he replies, “Guess he didn’t get that from me then.”

Ian pipes in, “I beg to differ. Takes brains to build a business from the ground up and make it successful.”

Yev leans forward in his chair, “Ian, I totally agree. Pops is way too hard on himself.”

For Mickey, the world stops for a beat when he hears it. And he doesn’t know if Yev meant it or it just slipped out. Either way, his heart is full. Ian and Yev are still talking, but he is just smiling at his son, incapable of taking in their conversation. A few minutes later, Ian whispers in his ear, “How you doing there, Pops?” He turns and looks at Ian, who is smiling softly at him but he still doesn’t have words. Ian understands, leaning in and kissing him on the temple.

Later in the evening he and Ian stand back and watch as Yev plays with his cousins - Christopher and Melody. Yev’s girlfriend, Grace, is joining in too and they both like her, she seems like a good fit for Yev. Lu and Freddie and Lip’s daughter, Phoebe, come and join in too. Mandy and David are deep in conversation with Lip and Tami still seated at the dining table. It feels like the family he always wanted and never thought he could have. But he has it, with Ian right by his side. He leans into Ian and is rewarded with an arm around his waist and a kiss to his lips.

*****

Ian is clapping and cheering his ass off as his daughter competes with her cheer squad, but his eyes keep darting to Mickey because no matter how many times Mickey watches Lucinda cheer he still nearly shits his pants. And Ian thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Lucinda is a flyer and he does get nervous watching her perform - worrying she might fall or be dropped - but Mickey gasps dramatically, grabs tightly onto his arm, covers his mouth with his hands, and curses non-stop. Mickey also bitches if Lucinda’s team doesn’t win, which includes yelling insults and flipping the bird to anyone who disagrees with him. Ian has had to calm Mickey down several times.

Today turns out to be a great day with Lucinda’s team placing first - the entire team receiving trophies. Mickey is so proud of Lu and Ian finds himself emotional as he watches his partner hug his daughter as if she were his own. Perhaps it’s because Brad rarely ever attended and Mickey comes to every single competition, or because he knows Mickey would step in front of a bullet for her, or just because it feels good to parent with someone by his side, who is on his side. Or maybe it’s all of those things.

As they climb into the car to head home, Lucinda and Mickey continue to talk about her team’s performance and make fun of the other team’s mistakes. 

“Mickey, you want to look at my trophy?” Lucinda asks.

“Course,” Mickey replies, taking it from Lu and giving it the once over. “I never won a trophy when I was growing up. It’s really cool, Lu. You got enough room to fit it on your trophy shelf?” Mickey passes the trophy back.

“What do you mean you never won a trophy? Everyone gets trophies for something.”

“Never got to do anything where you got a trophy. Played baseball for half a season when I was little, but I got kicked off the team.”

Ian laughs, “Mick, why don’t you tell her why you got kicked off the team.”

“Fuck off Gallagher, she doesn’t need to hear that.”

“Dad, tell me, tell me! What did Mickey do?” Lucinda asks, voice full of excitement.

“I’ll let Mick tell you if he wants,” he says, raising his eyebrows at Mickey.

“Alright, alright. I got mad at the umpire, so I pissed on first base.”

Ian hears Lucinda’s big intake of air followed by her laughing her head off. 

“Mickey, I can’t believe you did that. How old were you?”

“Ah, maybe 8 or 9. Your Dad was on second base. How old were you? You remember?” Mickey asks.

“Yeah, I think I was about 7 so maybe you had turned 9. I thought you were a badass.”

“You still think I’m a badass.”

“You got me there,” he says, and let’s go of the wheel to thread their fingers together.

Lucinda leans forward in her seat, “Hey Mickey, thanks for coming to my competitions. It well… it really means a lot to me. It’s nice having like two parents cheering me on.”

“Lu, I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Love being there, even if I have a fucking heart attack every time they throw you in the air.”

“Mickey, I don’t know how to ask this and if you don’t like it or don’t want to, I’m totally cool with it but… Mickey, I was wondering… And if it’s okay with Dad too…”

Ian has no idea what Lucinda wants to ask, but he can tell she is nervous as hell. “Lu, you can ask Mickey anything,” he encourages.

“Okay, Dad, I’m getting there,” Lucinda scolds him before turning her attention back to Mickey. “Mickey, I was wondering if I could start calling you Pops? You know, like Yev does. I kinda think of you like a dad and Mickey doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Ian squeezes Mickey’s hand and glances quickly at him, before returning his eyes to the road. 

“Lu, are you sure that’s what you want?” Mickey’s voice is almost a whisper and Ian can hear the struggle for self-control.

“I’m one hundred percent sure, but only if you are okay with it,” Lucinda replies.

“Ian?” Mickey says.

“I’m one hundred percent in favour,” he replies, wishing he wasn’t driving so he could see both their faces. The two people he loves most in the world.

“Yeah Lu, I’d really like that.”

“So you realise this means you get to call me your daughter now too? Oh, and Pops, you _have_ to help me with my micro business project tonight.” Lucinda sits back in her seat and giggles.

Mickey teases Lucinda while Ian wonders if life could get any better than this. He kisses the back of Mickey’s hand and then looks in the rear-view mirror at his daughter's delighted face. Turning the corner onto their street, he can’t get the smile off his own face as he takes his happy family home.

*****

Two weeks shy of their first anniversary - well, their first anniversary since they got back together—Mickey is seriously starting to think about when he should propose. They are settled in the new house, business is great, and they feel like a family—Yev included. Yet he is still nervous about it, doubts in the back of his mind perhaps lingering from years gone by. Maybe their one-year anniversary is the perfect time to do it? If so, he needs to plan soon—like where and how? He needs to buy a ring. And should he ask Lu first and see if she is okay with it?

They are on their way home after dropping Lu at Brad’s for the weekend when they stop for pizza—too tired to cook after a long week at work. Ian goes to order the pizza while he heads off to the supermarket to grab some milk and bread.

Just as he exits the checkout, he spots Ian coming his way—his partner never letting him out of his sight for long, not that he minds. Ian relieves him of one of shopping bags and starts looking inside. “Oh great, you got me that rocky road I love. Fuck Mick, how many snickers did you buy?”

Mickey is just about to tell Ian he doesn’t want to hear another lecture about getting older and eating too much sugar when he spots Toby. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other since they signed the divorce papers five months ago. Not that he thinks they should stay in contact, but he wonders from time to time if Toby is doing okay. And it looks like he is. 

Standing next to Toby is a tall, dark haired man. He looks at Toby with nothing less than love in his eyes, and Toby is looking back at him the same. They are laughing at something and Toby leans up and kisses his boyfriend. 

Ian frowns at Mickey, then looks to see what has captured his attention. “Mick, you want to say hello?”

“Should we?” he asks in two minds about it.

The question is answered for them when Toby spots him and waves, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and striding towards them. 

“Hey Mick, good to see you,” Toby says and leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. Mickey wonders if Ian will keep his shit together. “Hi Ian, how are you?” Toby holds out a hand to Ian and thankfully Ian takes it and replies with a ‘good thanks.’ “This is my partner, Rick. Rick, this is my ex-husband Mickey and his boyfriend Ian.” A further round of hello’s and handshaking ensues, and Mickey thinks this is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.

The four of them chat for a minute or two, Toby telling them he met Rick about eight months ago and they’ve been living together for four. Mickey tells Toby he and Ian have bought a house together, then almost mentions Yev before realising Toby never knew of Yev’s existence. 

Just when it looks like they are wrapping up the chit chat, Toby asks him if he can have a word. Mickey looks at Ian apologetically—both for talking to Toby and for leaving him to talk to Rick. They move a few feet away and he waits for Toby to speak.

“Mick, I just want to tell you that you were right. I get it now. Us separating was for the best. I wouldn’t have met Rick otherwise. I’m crazy in love with him and he is with me. It was love at first sight and I guess what I’m saying is, if this is what you always felt for Ian then I can’t blame you for wanting it back.”

Mickey is happy for Toby, he really is. It’s what he always hoped for the man. “That’s fucking great Tobes. Make sure he treats you right cos you deserve that, and more.” Mickey suddenly feels sentimental and emotional. He really did go straight from his marriage into Ian’s arms and never gave himself space to mourn the loss of the relationship. Mickey has no regrets. He made the right choice, but his marriage to Toby was a significant part of his life and overwhelmingly positive. He places a hand on Toby’s shoulder, “You ever need anything Tobes, I’m here.”

“You too, Mick. I don’t regret anything. We had some great times.”

“We did. You fucking saved me, and I’ll never forget that.”

Toby reaches out and pulls him into a hug and he goes willingly cos this feels like closure. Closure he didn’t know he needed until this moment. Seeing Toby happy and in love and with no hatred or resentment is the best outcome he could ask for. Toby releases him and they look across at their respective partners. Rick is chatting away with a smile on his face, while Ian is looking agitated and pissed. But he gets it, they are both possessive bitches. On the way home he’s going to get the silent treatment accompanied by ‘the chin’, followed by an argument, only to conclude with some intense fucking. Mickey isn’t looking forward to the first two parts, but he is looking forward to the last part. A pissed off Gallagher is sexy as fuck.

*****

Ian is pissed, jealous and anxious and he doesn’t really know why. He refused to speak to Mickey all the way home, then barely said two words while they ate their pizza and now, he just feels like a dick. No doubt he’s overreacting but watching Mickey touch Toby and hug him - no, not hug him - it was more like they were holding each other, it seemed intimate. And not to mention the emotion he saw on Mickey’s face. Nostalgia? Loss? Grief? Fuck, was it regret? Ian feels like his thoughts are spiralling and sending him down a dark path. 

Mickey appears and stands in the doorframe of their bedroom. “Ian, what the fuck is going through your head? Talk to me, man.”

Ian slumps down on their bed, wondering how to begin. Mickey comes in and stands between his legs, gently grasping his chin and forcing him to look up. “Do you regret it?” he asks.

Mickey frowns down at him. “Regret what?” Mickey moves to sit down beside him.

“Leaving Toby? Leaving your marriage?”

“Fuck no! Is that what you’re in here sulking about? You think I saw Toby today and out of fucking nowhere decided I made a mistake leaving him. Now I’m fucking pissed. Thought you were just jealous cos we hugged. Seriously, what the fuck, Ian? We bought a house together, I think of Lu as my own kid, we talk about growing old together. Does that sound like I have regrets?”

“No,” he whispers, feeling like a total idiot. “I’m sorry, Mick. I know it’s fucked up, but I guess I still feel guilty about what I did. I worry that I manipulated you and pushed you into leaving him. You had a happy life with him, you can’t deny that?”

“I did have a happy life with him. But what I have now, what we have, is a thousand times better. You’re a persistent fucker, but I made my own choices. You have nothing to feel guilty about and I have no regrets. This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Really? Cos, this is the happiest I’ve ever been too. Guess I just worry it’s all gonna get taken away. Like I don’t deserve to be happy, you know?”

Mickey pulls him into a hug, “Not this time, Ian. There’s no Terry or poverty or committing fucking crimes anymore. Your mental health is good, and you deserve to be happy. We both fucking do.” Mickey pulls away and holds his hands. “So let’s just enjoy it, enjoy each other. Okay?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can always make it up to me,” Mickey says, raising his eyebrows, then licking his lips.

“Really, straight to the dick?” he says, but he’s smiling cos he feels better, and Mickey is right.

“Nothing straight about me, Gallagher. Besides, I thought we were gonna fight and then you were gonna fuck my brains out. You know, all possessive and angry and shit.”

“You fucking love that, don’t you?” he says, then slams Mickey onto his back and pins him down. Mickey thrashes under him, bucking his hips. “You can quit your thrashing cos you’re not going anywhere.”

Mickey’s cock hardens under his ass and his eyes twinkle with excitement and Ian knows the handcuffs are coming out tonight.

*****

The following morning Mickey is walking funny, but he doesn’t mind that ache in his ass after a good pounding. He is, however, still thinking about how Ian feels insecure about their relationship. Even though it’s Saturday, he has to go into work because Sam has called in sick. But it gives him the opportunity to act on a thought that kept crossing his mind every time he woke up during the night. 

As he heads into work, he makes two calls—one to book an appointment at a tattoo parlour and one to Janice to see if she can come in and relieve him at work in the afternoon. Then he makes a firm decision—he’ll propose on their anniversary in two weeks. He knows the perfect place, and he can’t fucking wait.

At 2pm he walks into the tattoo shop and gets Ian tattooed back over his heart. Except this time he knows he’ll take it to his grave because he and Ian will be together until death they do part.

*

That night they go out for dinner and then come home and cuddle on the couch while watching a movie. By the time they head into the bedroom, Mickey is more than ready to show Ian what he’s done. “I got something done today.”

Ian stops undressing and looks at him, perhaps the tone of his voice alerting him it’s important. Coming to stand in front of him, Ian asks, “What Mick?”

Mickey undoes his shirt buttons, watching confusion form on Ian’s face. As he pulls his shirt off his shoulders, Ian’s eyes go wide as he looks from the tattoo to Mickey’s face and back again.

“Mick, you didn’t hav-”

“I did. I never want you to doubt my love for you.”

“Mick, I don’t doubt your love.”

“But you still worry I’m not all in or I’m gonna regret it at some point or you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did yesterday. This is my way of telling you this is permanent—us together. You’re forever under my skin, man.” Ian is looking at him with such love and admiration and he’s soft and beautiful and Mickey wants to give him everything. And he will.

They melt into each other, bodies joining in a practised dance. Mickey could kiss Ian until the end of time, and it would never be enough. He loves the way Ian sucks on his bottom lip and opens up to accept his tongue. He loves the softness of his lips and the warmth of his mouth. He loves the way Ian cradles his face and pants when the kiss heats up.

When Ian pulls away and kisses down his neck Mickey throws his head back and closes his eyes, narrowing down his senses to intensify the moment. Mickey threads his hands into Ian’s hair as he goes lower, stopping to place the most delicate kiss upon the tattoo. “I love it, Mick,” Ian whispers, as he continues down to his stomach, getting onto his knees.

Ian undoes his pants and slides them and his boxers down to his ankles. Warm hands stroke back up his legs as little bites and licks adorn his thighs, then Ian’s beautiful mouth slides down around his cock and he moans. The deeply satisfied moan of a man who feels like he’s being adored, worshiped. Looking down he is met with Ian’s pleasure filled face, red lashes fluttering closed as he takes him in deeper and deeper with each slide. Hands massage his ass then tease at his hole and within minutes he releases hot into Ian’s mouth, his knees buckling under him as his body shakes and shudders.

Ian’s lips reconnect with his own before he can register the loss of warmth from his cock, and strong arms lift him up and carry him to their bed. Ian lays him down like he is special and fragile and whispers ‘I love you’ against his skin. And all he can think of is…just two more weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I'm excited for the next chapter!! Got a busy week ahead of me so I think I'm going to guess that next chapter will be Saturday. Then the epic epilogue sometime the following week. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!   
> Please kudos, subscribe, user subscribe and of course leave me a comment if you have time - love that!!   
> Take care!  
> Rachael x  
> Twitter @dancelovermk


	14. Commitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins two weeks after chapter 13.  
> (Decent amount of smut in this chapter - but romantic smut! ;)

**_ TWO WEEKS LATER… _ **

“Mick, where are we going?”

“It’s a fucking surprise, Ian. Telling you would spoil it.”

“Since when did you become a man that planned secret romantic anniversary dates?”

“What, you complaining?”

“Fuck no!” Ian is watching Mickey drive, his partner clearly nervous as hell. He has no idea what Mickey has organised, but they are in casual clothes and Mickey secretly stashed some stuff in the car's trunk before they left. A part of him wants to burst into a fit of giggles; Mickey Milkovich has remembered their anniversary and planned a date. Mickey, who once called him a punk for wanting a boyfriend. 

When he realises they are heading into Southside, his mind considers the possibilities. Surely, they aren’t going to the Alibi? When they turn in the opposite direction, Ian is baffled until Mickey slows down and pulls into the baseball field parking lot. He hasn’t been in here in many, many years. It’s been upgraded with a new grandstand and fencing, and the field is perfectly kept. The night is warm, the sky is clear, and the field is illuminated by the light of the moon. 

Mickey is already out of the car, fishing stuff out of the trunk when Ian opens his door and steps out. The place brings back a lot of memories, and even though they were a lifetime ago, they also seem like yesterday. 

“You’re quiet,” Mickey asks, chewing on his bottom lip with nerves. “Did I pick the wrong place?”

“No, Mick. Just haven’t been here in a long time and the memories… Guess I wasn’t expecting this, is all.”

“Come on.”

It’s only as Mickey sets off toward the entrance gate, he sees the picnic basket and the blanket, and his heart swells inside his chest. Did Mickey remember making fun of him all those years ago? On a warm summer’s night just like this one. 

Mickey leads them out to the middle of the field and sets out the blanket. “You remember?” he asks, excited like his fifteen-year-old self.

“Course I do. Remember everything about that night, Firecrotch. You ready to lie down next to me and look for shooting stars?”

Ian grabs Mickey by the neck and kisses him hard. It’s the nickname and the location and the sheer romance of it all, and he’s panting when he pulls away.

“Damn, maybe I should call you Firecrotch more often,” Mickey teases, pulling him down onto the blanket.

Mickey unpacks the food from the picnic basket, including cold beers to wash it down with. They don’t eat that much. Ian feels too alive, butterflies in his stomach, senses heightened, and Mickey seems to feel the same. Once they pack up the picnic, they keep their beers out and lie down on the blanket. Mickey lights up a smoke and they pass it between them, silent for a while as they stare up at the stars.

Turning onto his side, Ian throws his leg over Mickey’s and rests a hand on his chest. “I think this past year is the only full year we’ve had together. We were always being separated by something.”

Mickey rolls onto his side too and touches his face - thumb stroking over his cheekbone - then connects their lips briefly. “Between me getting my ass thrown in juvie and you running off, we made it fucking difficult for ourselves. Did you ever think back in the day we’d end up together?”

Ian pulls Mickey in closer, their noses almost touching. “It’s what I dreamed of. Especially when we were living together with Svet and Yev. That we could be a family. But no, I never thought I would get it. Didn’t think a happily ever after was on the cards, no matter how much I wanted it. What about you?”

“Hell no, you know I thought I was fucked for life. Thought I’d be in prison my whole life, or fucking dead. Some mornings when I wake up before you, I just watch you sleep because I can’t believe how fucking happy I am.”

“And you stroke my hair,” he says, squeezing Mickey’s ass.

“What the fuck, Gallagher? Are you pretending to sleep while I stare at you sleeping?” Mickey says feigning annoyance before pressing smiling lips to his own.

“Well I like it when you do that, and I don’t want to you stop so I just keep my eyes closed.”

They look at each other as Mickey strokes his hair back. Ian can’t believe _this_ Mickey, this gentle, soft, Mickey was hiding - no, trapped inside - all those years ago. “You’re so beautiful, Mick,” he whispers. They kiss, pulling each other in close, Mickey’s tongue sending sparks throughout his body. Mickey pulls away just when Ian is about to roll on top and take things further. 

“Come on, let’s take a walk,” Mickey says, standing up and offering his hand. He takes it and Mickey leads him towards the dugout. 

“We fucked a few times in here,” he says, laughing as he looks around. “You luring me in here to have your way with-” Ian turns around and Mickey is on one knee. “Mick? What you doing?” His heart is jack hammering, and goosebumps erupt across his skin. Is Mickey really doing what he thinks he’s doing?

“Ian, about a year ago you asked me when I knew I was in love with you and I told you it was the first night we came here. We’ve spent a lot of years apart, but I never want that to happen again. I fucking love you, Ian Gallagher, have since I was seventeen. Will you marry me?”

Mickey pulls a box from his pocket and opens it, a perfect simple white gold band inside. Tears fill Ian’s eyes even as he smiles uncontrollably. “Mickey, of course I’ll marry you. Fuck, I thought _you_ needed more time. Yes! Fucking yes!”

Then they are on each other like glue, kissing as if it’s their last day on earth. Mickey’s tears fall onto his face and he can’t believe they are finally getting their happy ending. 

Mickey suddenly pulls away, “You thought _I_ needed more time? You mean you were waiting for _me_ to be ready?”

“Yeah, you’ve only been divorced for five months. I thought I needed to wait until at least six.”

“Fuck Ian, I was shit scared I was rushing you and it would be too soon.”

“Mick, you could have asked me the day you moved in and I would have said yes. Is this really the place you fell in love with me? Right here?”

“Right here, Gallagher. Now put the fucking ring on.”

Mickey pulls the ring out of the box and slides it on his finger, then he pushes Mickey back against the fence, licking into his mouth and pulling their hips together. “Want you, Mick,” he pants between kisses. “But wanna make love to you. Slow and deep and more than once.”

“Then take me home to bed.”

*****

All the way home Ian holds his hand; he kisses it and squeezes it and strokes it with his thumb. Mickey’s heart is full and every time their eyes connect, he knows Ian is as happy as he is. He wants Ian over him and inside of him, but it’s not about lust, it’s about love. There will be little sleep tonight.

Once they arrive, Ian leads him by the hand upstairs and into their bedroom. 

“Here sit down,” Ian says, leading him over to the bed. Ian moves across the room and digs through his sock drawer, pulling out an old pair from the back and then a small black box from inside the sock. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ian returns to the bed and sits next to him.

“I bought this a couple of months ago. I know you’ve already proposed, but I’d love it if you’d wear it.”

Ian looks so vulnerable and young as he opens the box and shows Mickey the engagement ring. It’s a black tungsten ring and he loves it. “Of course, I’ll fucking wear it.” 

Ian takes the ring from the box and slides it onto his finger. It seems only right they both have rings and knowing Ian wanted this as much as he did only adds to the nights’ perfection. They connect their lips again, Ian lowering him back onto the bed as they kiss slowly, Ian positioning himself on top, between his legs. Mickey pulls at Ian’s shirt, wanting it off, wanting to feel the heat of Ian’s skin on his. Ian looks down at him in wonder. “You’re gonna be my husband.”

Ian is very emotional, so Mickey rolls them, covering Ian with his weight, calming him, before he sits up and remove Ian’s pants, losing his own while he’s at it. “I am going to be your husband and I’m gonna take care of you,” he says as he climbs back on top, ready to give his fiancé the loving he needs. They make out for a long time, stroking and caressing each other. It’s slow and sensual and everything feels different now they are engaged.

Mickey languidly strokes Ian’s cock, moaning when he feels pre-cum leaking out just for him. Ian fingers him slowly, rubbing across his prostate while lavishing attention to his neck. They end up making love lying on their sides, Ian spooning him while he arches his head back to keep their lips connected. He feels sexy thrusting his ass back onto his fiancé’s cock and Ian holds his chest, so they are flesh on flesh. When they cum, they cum together, Mickey spilling over Ian’s hand as Ian’s releases warm inside him. Their orgasms are deep and long and satisfying in a way that goes far beyond the physical. Mickey cannot imagine what it will feel like to make love to Ian once they are married, and it cannot come soon enough.

Afterwards, they remain in each other’s arms for a long time—not wanting to move and break the moment. Mickey twirls the ring on his finger and kisses the one on Ian’s. This is one of the happiest days of his life and the significance of it doesn’t escape him. So he studies Ian’s face, committing everything to memory so he can reminisce when they are old and grey. 

*

The following morning Mickey is straddling Ian in bed; their fingers threaded together. His ass is sore after three rounds of fiancé sex and he is exhausted from lack of sleep, but he doesn’t care. “Maybe we should just go down to the courthouse in our tuxes like a couple of old queens.”

Ian’s eyes widen in shock and for a split-second Mickey panics and wishes he could take it back. He remembers when Ian suggested it and he reacted like an asshole. He’s always wanted to fix that moment; a time when neither of them knew how to make the other understand what they really felt. Ian never understood he was enough, and that Mickey was all in. If he was standing on those front steps now, he would tell Ian he would marry him, and he wouldn’t give a shit if they looked like a couple of old queens. He is proud to love Ian and be loved by him, and for everyone to see it.

Ian smiles but his brow is knitted as he pulls Mickey down, so they are chest to chest. “You trying to be funny, Milkovich?”

“Just wanna put things right, Gallagher. Plus, I don’t want to wait. We could have a big ass wedding but that takes time to plan. What I want is a husband, a marriage – a wedding is just an expensive party.” 

Ian slides a hand around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, smiling when they pull apart. “I want that too. Let’s do it. Name the day, and this old queen will be ready in his tux.”

**_ THE WEDDING DAY… _ **

It’s Saturday, their wedding day, and Mickey isn’t nervous, just fucking excited. He can’t get there soon enough; more than ready to lock down his sexy ginger. Ian is fixing his tie for him and he knows—just knows—he is gazing at his fiancé with love heart eyes. He can’t imagine how he could love Ian any more than he does right now, but he knows he will, with his love deepening with each passing day.

It’s only been four weeks since they got engaged. Mickey would have done it the very next day, but Mandy would have shot him, and the Gallagher’s would have been fucking pissed at Ian. They can only have fifteen guests at the courthouse so all the kids are being babysat so the adults can be present. Unfortunately, Liam couldn’t get time off work, but all the others are coming with their respective partners. He asked Yev to be his best man, and Ian has Lip. They’ve bought Lucinda a beautiful dress for the day, not wanting her to feel left out.

“How do I look?” he says, once Ian finishes with his tie.

“Fucking beautiful as always, Mick. Did I scrub up okay?”

Mickey looks Ian up and down, licking his lips in appreciation. “You look fucking sexy in a suit. I just want to rip it off.” In the end they decided tuxes were a little over the top for the courthouse, but Ian is in a black suit complete with a vest, and he is in blue at Ian’s request. 

Ian leans forward, whispering in his ear, “You’ll have to work fast cos I got plans for you once you’re my husband.” Ian’s tongue darts out and flicks at his lobe, and Mickey’s dick twitches in response.

“Time to go, you two,” Mandy says, leaning in the doorway, “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

Ian takes his hand and presses his lips to it, “So fucking glad you knocked on my door that day. You changed my life. Thank you for giving me a second chance even though I didn’t deserve it. I love you so much, Mick.”

“Ian, you know the moment I set eyes on you, I was going to give you a second chance, just took me a while to admit it. Best decision I’ve ever made. I love you so fucking much too. Now let’s get hitched.”

*****

When it’s their turn to stand up in front of the judge Ian is shaking. He isn’t prepared for how overwhelmed and emotional he feels, finally marrying the man he’s loved since he was fifteen. Eighteen months ago, his life, his future, seemed without hope—filled with bitterness and loneliness. Now every day is overflowing with love and happiness, and Mickey is the reason for it all. 

He reaches out to take Mickey’s hands, to anchor him and hold him steady. The judge has already started but his eyes are glued to Mickey’s; those exquisite blue eyes filling with tears, love radiating off him. The whole world has narrowed down to just the two of them, and then Mickey begins his vows.

"I, Mickey, take you, Ian, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish you, till death do us part."

Then it’s his turn. Mickey smiles at him and squeezes his hands and he finds his voice, even if it is quivering. He wants Mickey to know just how much these vows mean to him. "I, Ian, take you, Mickey, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health,” he pauses, something about ‘in sickness and in health’ affecting him. Mickey lets his hand go and reaches up to brush the tear off his cheek. Taking a deep breath, he continues, “To love and to cherish you, till death do us part."

“Now for the exchange of rings,” says the judge.

Yev passes Mickey the ring. They are simple matching white gold bands with ‘forever by your side’ engraved on the inside. They decided on it together to symbolise their commitment going forward, to let nothing come between them ever again. No person, no circumstance, no illness, no challenge or separation. 

“I give you this ring as a symbol of our unbreakable bond,” Mickey recites as he slips the ring onto his finger. Ian can see Mickey’s hand shaking and it comforts him to know he’s not the only one.

Lip passes him the ring for Mickey, and he repeats, “I give you this ring as a symbol of our unbreakable bond,” as he places the ring on Mickey’s finger. 

The Judge is wrapping up the ceremony, but he’s zoned out again, lost in blue eyes, until he hears those glorious words, “Husband and husband. You may kiss.” He cups Mickey’s face in both hands and kisses him, trying to keep it respectable even though he very much wants to kiss his husband deeply and thoroughly. 

When he pulls away, he whispers, “Love you, my husband.”

Mickey’s face breaks into a huge smile, “Love you too. Get the feeling my new name is going to be husband.”

Ian kisses Mickey once more, then pulls him into an embrace, tears threatening to spill yet again. They are married. All the family congratulate them as they are hustled out of the room, the next couple eager to start. He pulls Lucinda in for a hug and kisses her forehead.

“Dad, it was beautiful. I’m so happy for you two. Feels like we’re truly a family now.”

“Yeah, it does. Love you, pumpkin.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Lucinda moves to Mickey and hugs him next. “Love you, Pops. You going to be a Gallagher now?” she asks.

“Love you too, Lu and I don’t know, we haven’t even thought about that yet.”

*****

They all have lunch at a local restaurant in a small function room. It’s simple like Mickey wanted, with all the kids joining in too. They drink a little too much and end up slow dancing to a round of cheers and whistles. Debbie organised a cake for them and they all eat that for dessert, Ian feeding him as they get more and more desperate to get on each other. Mickey just wants to get Ian alone. They are spending two nights at The Langham and will take a proper honeymoon when Ian can get more time off work. Mandy, David and their kids are staying at their house and looking after Lucinda for the weekend so they can relax knowing she’s in good hands. When he climbs onto Ian’s lap and they make out at the table, Lip declares lunch over. 

*****

It’s just after 4pm when they arrive at their Lakeview suite at The Langham. Mickey is trying to figure out how to open the door—a little tipsy—and Ian has attached himself to Mickey’s back. “Fuck, you smell good, Mick,” he says as he nuzzles into his husband’s neck and presses his hard cock into his ass. Hopefully, nobody walks past because the dress pants do nothing to hide his raging boner.

Mickey is giggling but also getting frustrated. “Ian, fucking do something to help.”

Ian dry humps Mickey and sucks a hickey into his neck. “This definitely helps. Can I carry you over the threshold if you ever open the door?”

Mickey turns around, “Jesus fucking Christ, Ian. I think we drank too much. Get us inside, I’m like a horny teenager.”

The words are music to his ears, and he threads his fingers through Mickey’s hair and kisses him—it’s all tongues as they moan and grab at each other. Ian takes the hotel keycard from Mickey as he kisses down his neck and shoves it in the slot, the light flashing green and the door opening.

“Motherfucker,” Mickey complains. Ian shuts him up by picking him up. Legs wrap around him and he smiles as his husband grabs his face and kisses him hard. Ian carries him inside, kicking the door closed behind him then slamming Mickey against the wall to kiss him again. “Bedroom, Gallagher,” Mickey pants between kisses as he unwraps his legs and lowers himself to the floor. “And get this shit off.”

“Anything for my husband,” he says as they strip each other on their way towards the bedroom, expensive suits be damned. They leave a trail of clothes all the way to the bedroom, their socks the last thing to go before they fall onto the bed, kissing madly. 

Mickey rolls them so he’s on top. “Ian, where’s the lube?”

“Ah..um..I packed it my overnight bag. Our bags should be here for us already, Mandy dropped them over earlier. Relax, I’ll find it.” Mickey rolls off him and he gets up, finding their bags in the walk-in robe. After locating the lube, he pulls out a little something he wants to try with his husband, then comes to stand at the end of the bed. Mickey is laying on his back, legs spread while he strokes his cock. Ian wavers between wanting to fuck his husband hard and fast or worshiping him slowly.

*****

“What you got there, Gallagher?” he says, noticing Ian has a bottle of lube in one hand and the other hand hidden behind his back.

“Just thinking I want to make my husband feel good. Might take my time.”

“Get to it, then.”

Ian crawls up the bed and straddles him, revealing a silk blindfold. They regularly engage in light bondage, almost always Ian tying him up. Mickey has no problem being submissive for Ian in the bedroom. While he had been reluctant to experiment in his teens, he now enjoys exploring all his kinks. He lifts up onto his elbows so Ian can tie the blindfold, then lies back down, his cock straining between Ian’s ass cheeks. They drank too much at lunch but he’s now settled into a warm buzz, and he’s ready to let Ian take care of him.

Ian takes his hands above his head and Mickey can hear his husband’s deep breath’s next to his ear, warmth fanning down his neck. “Mickey.” Ian licks up his neck. “Want you to tell me how it feels, sounds, tastes, okay?”

Mickey huffs out a chuckle at Ian’s request, he’s more than happy to indulge his husband on their wedding day. The weight and warmth of Ian’s body leaves him for a second and then hands run lightly up and down his shins, almost to the point of tickling. He hums in approval, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. Fingers squeeze into his thighs and he feels the bed dip as Ian climbs between his legs.

“Mickeeey…these thighs.”

Wet kisses make their way up his inner thigh, warm breath fans over his balls and cock, and then more kisses trail down his other thigh. Hands stroke up and down his stomach and he thrusts up, wanting more. 

“Patience Mick,” Ian teases, then lifts one of his legs, sinking teeth into the flesh of his inner thigh. Mickey groans as Ian begins to suck. To mark him. 

Ian’s mouth moves to his balls, licking, then taking one into his mouth, rolling it gently before letting it pop out. As a warm hand circles the lower part of his cock, he reaches out. His hands sink into Ian’s hair just as a tongue laps at his slit, then circles the head. “Ian, please, want your mouth.”

Ian’s lips slide down his length then suck him hard on the pull back; the pressure, the warmth, spreading pleasure throughout his body. Ian continues to suck him off as he fists his husband’s hair, his focus solely on his throbbing cock.

After a few minutes, his legs shake and Ian pulls off, climbing on top to straddle him. His husband shuffles around until Mickey’s cock is firmly between cheeks and then he rocks backwards and forwards. “Jesus, Ian. Feels so good. Squeeze around my cock.” Ian obliges and starts moaning. Mickey is tempted to remove the blindfold, enticed by the thought of watching Ian rub his rim against his cock. “You playing with that big cock of yours?” he asks, as he runs his hands up Ian’s thighs.

“Open, give me your tongue,” Ian instructs. He feels Ian’s fingers on his tongue then the taste of his husband’s pre-cum hits and he groans. Ian’s tongue connects with his own and then licks greedily into his mouth. When Ian pulls his lips away and the weight lifts off his hips, he pants in anticipation. Mickey’s finger goes into Ian’s mouth, Ian sucking and moaning loudly as his other hand is dragged down Ian’s chest and over his washboard abs. Without sight he feels every ridge, his husband’s body hard and strong. “Let me suck your cock,” he says, hearing the neediness in his own voice. Then he feels the head brush against his mouth, pre-cum wetting his lips. Mickey circles his tongue around the head before opening his mouth to welcome Ian’s cock. Grabbing Ian’s ass, he guides him in and out, getting off on the sinful moans of his husband.

“Oh Mickey fuck, you have to stop or I’ll cum,” Ian whines.

Ian pulls out and settles down back over him, kissing him gently, then pulling off the blindfold and kissing over each eyelid. When Mickey opens his eyes, Ian is flushed, eyes dilated with want. Reaching for the lube, Ian finally slides a finger inside him, then two, then three. They look into each other’s eyes as Ian fingers him slowly. Ian trails kisses down his neck, then sucks on his nipples, all the while that long middle finger rubs at his prostate sending him close to the edge. There’s something intensely erotic about the way Ian opens him up and he struggles against the urge to cum. He feels so fucking relaxed, his body tingling with pleasure.

When Ian positions himself on top and pushes inside, he tilts his pelvis up, wanting him as deep as possible. Ian’s cock seems to be made for him. The way his husband rolls his hips is sinful and he moans, “Ian, don’t stop, don’t ever fucking stop.”

Ian looks down at him with so much love. “I live to be inside you, Mick. Love you so much.”

Ian, his _husband_. They are married. He is making love to his husband. It hits him hard, and he wraps his legs tighter around Ian’s waist, wanting to be part of him, be as one with him. “Love you too,” he says, panting with desire as he feels his release building. “Deeper, Ian. Fuck me deeper,” he moans, then pulls Ian down, wanting his husband’s tongue inside him too. 

Mickey knows Ian so well so when his thrusts lose their rhythm, he lets go and cums, untouched between them. A second later Ian moans ‘Mickey Mickey Mickey’ as he releases inside him. They hold each other tight as they groan and pant through the waves of their orgasm’s, then kiss softly and slowly. And softly and slowly. 

*****

After a cuddle and a nap, they shower together, then dress in boxers and t-shirts. Ian orders them room service for dinner, more than happy to remain alone in their suite. Now onto dessert, they feed each other chocolate covered strawberries as they look out into the night. It’s still early, only just after 8pm. He kisses Mickey again, he can’t keep his lips to himself, then lays down on the sofa pulling his husband with him. “Mick, what are we going to do about our names?”

“What about them?” Mickey asks, backing his ass up, so they are closer.

“Is one of us changing our surname? Do we hyphenate? Leave them the same since we only recently changed back to Gallagher and Milkovich?” Mickey doesn’t answer for a bit and Ian kisses his neck while he waits.

“What about Lu? She’s still a Johnson. Does that bother you?”

“She asked me about that a few days ago. She wanted to know if she can change it, but we need Brad to agree. I suggested she ask him if she could hyphenate it so she’s not dropping his name, just adding mine.”

“I hope the prick agrees if that’s what she wants. We’ve got Yev in our lives too now and he’s still a Milkovich.”

“So why don’t we hyphenate then? That way we’re the same and we’ll both be connected to both of our kids. Plus..” Ian pauses, the idea that’s been floating around in his head since they bought the house playing on his mind.

“Plus what?” Mickey asks, tilting his head back to look at him.

“There’s been something on my mind for a while, but I’m not sure if I should bring it up. And now probably isn’t the right time.”

“Fucking spit it out, Gallagher. We don’t keep shit from each other anymore. If it’s been on your mind, you should have already told me.” Mickey shuffles around so they are facing each other.

“Look, before I say this please know that if the answer is no, then I am totally okay with that.”

“Fucking hell Ian, just say it you’re freaking me the fuck out here.”

Ian presses his hand to Mickey’s cheek and takes a deep breath, “Would you ever consider having another kid?”

Mickey’s eyes go wide, and his body stiffens and Ian feels panic rise inside him. “Mick, seriously, it’s 100% okay to say no. Shit, see I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He takes his hand off Mickey’s cheek and looks up at the ceiling, wondering why he would be so fucking stupid as to bring this up today of all days.

“Yes.”

Ian snaps his head back to look at Mickey, “What?”

“Yes, I said yes. You going fucking deaf in your old age?”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re serious? Mickey…” Ian attacks him with his mouth, the force causing them to fall off the couch with a thud. They laugh, rolling so Mickey is on top.

“That shit’s expensive though, isn’t it? Can we afford it right now after buying the house?”

“I put some aside from the settlement just in case.”

“You’re a sneaky bastard, you know that don’t you?”

“You love me anyway.”

“Don’t fucking know why,” Mickey teases, blue eyes twinkling down at him.

Ian rolls him and tickles him like they are teenagers. “I can think of a few reasons. I hope your ass has recovered because we’re about to get started on round two.”

*

Ian fucks Mickey standing up, leaning against the floor to ceiling windows. There is something liberating about it, even if it’s unlikely anyone can see them. Their skin glistens with sweat as he takes Mickey to the edge, pounding him hard and fast, then eases off, rolling into him slow and deep. Over and over again he does this as he changes from holding Mickey tight to his chest while he whispers filthy things in his ear, to caressing gently over Mickey’s body as he watches his cock ease in and out. 

When his legs burn with fatigue, they move to the bed and Mickey sinks down on his cock, circling his hips slowly while they kiss each other senseless. Mickey brings them to orgasm riding his cock. Ian is a babbling mess as he watches his husband throw his head back and bite down on his lip. The moans of ecstasy coming out of Mickey’s mouth push him to the point of no return. Mickey cries out his name when he cums and Ian’s own orgasm is magnified by Mickey’s ass pulsing tight around his cock. The release is so intense his vision blurs, and his whole world narrows to Mickey. 

*****

After round two they are both exhausted, deciding on a bath because they are too tired to stand up in the shower. They plan on spending the rest of the night watching a movie in bed, something they always enjoy. Mickey won’t admit he loves it because of the cuddling, but it is 100% the reason.

Ian, being the hopeless romantic, has set up candles around the bathroom and added bubble bath to the enormous tub. Mickey isn’t complaining because Ian looks so fucking beautiful in candlelight it takes his breath away. 

Once Ian climbs in, he joins him, sitting between his legs like they always do. Ian washes his back, then arms snake around and continue with his chest. “Why don’t we switch so I can wash you?” he asks as Ian continues.

“It’s all good, Mick. I love taking care of you. Makes me happy. Here, lie back, you’re all clean.” He relaxes into Ian’s arms, resting his head back on his husband’s chest. The day has been perfect in every way. The ceremony was simple and intimate, surrounded by the people that matter most. The lunch afterwards was relaxed and fun, no pressure, sharing their happiness with their family. And now their mini honeymoon is everything he dreamed it could be. Being alone with Ian for forty-eight hours is a gift.

The baby talk had shocked him. He hadn’t seen it coming, and perhaps he should have. But he’s been caught up learning how to be a parent to Lu and re-learning how to be a father to Yev. If he thinks about it, Ian has dropped hints several times. The five-bedroom house the biggest fucking hint of all time. 

It took him all of five seconds to know he wanted a child with Ian. Perhaps his only concern is their age. But what he really wants to know is why Ian wants another child. “Ian, tell me why you want a kid?”

Ian is running his fingertips across his chest and they immediately still at his question. “Have you changed your mind already?” Ian asks, disappointment in his voice.

Mickey places his hands over Ian’s, “Fuck no, I’m just curious.”

Ian places a kiss to his temple and Mickey smiles as he feels his husband’s body relax again.

“The main reason is that I want to experience having a child with you. Raising a kid together. Being a family. But also because you missed out on raising Yev and I want that for you. And Lu always wanted a brother or sister, so she’ll be over the fucking moon. Is that what you want too?”

“Yeah, I do. We already feel like a family, but it would be nice to do it together from the beginning. Since you’ve done this before tell me how it all works?”

“Well, we find a surrogate and pick an egg donor—there are agencies that can help us with that. We provide the sperm and then we keep our fingers crossed that it all goes to plan. And we’re using your sperm in case you were wondering.”

“Why mine? Shouldn’t we flip for it or something? Maybe mix our sperm and see what happens?”

“Nope, Mick. I want this baby to have your DNA. Want me a little Mickey running around.”

“You might change your mind when he starts flipping us the bird and telling us to fuck off.” Ian laughs and he joins in too. 

“Might be a little girl, Mick.”

“So? Makes no difference. Have you met Mandy?”

“Fuck yeah, you’re right. Still want our baby to be a mini you.”

Mickey turns and kisses Ian, “Can we try soon?”

“Was hoping you’d say that. I’ll get the ball rolling next week.” Ian nuzzles into his neck. “Today was perfect, Mick. The ceremony, the lunch with all the family, being here alone with you, and now this - having a kid together. Feel like our lives are restarting the way they were always meant to be. Love you so much.”

“Love you too.” They kiss again, deeper, serenity falling over him. Over them. They deserve peace and calm and happiness, and Mickey is going to let himself enjoy every single fucking minute of their lives together.

*

Deep in the night Mickey is awoken by Ian kissing across his shoulder and up his neck.

“Want you again, my husband,” Ian whispers.

Mickey tilts his head back, kissing his husband. “Make love to me then.”

Ian is inside him the moment his cock is slick with lube. They stay in their spooned position as Ian rocks him with gentle, slow thrusts. They are both in that state between being asleep and awake, and it adds to the sensation. It’s a slow burn, his body so content and relaxed it almost surprises him when he cums, spilling into Ian’s hand with deep, long pulses. Too tired and satisfied to clean up they drift back into sleep, holding tight, vows of ‘I love you’ and 'forever' murmured into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next Sunday or Monday for the last chapter. (1st or 2nd Nov) There will be a time jump - you could call it an epilogue but it will be a full chapter word count wise. I'm looking forward to it - as we check in on our loved up domestic husbands!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I have a new one shot coming up after this AND a new multi-chapter which will be an enemies to lovers fic - lots of sexual tension and lots of fun! Please user subscribe if you are interested in reading my future fics! 
> 
> Please Kudos, subscribe and comment if you are enjoying this story!  
> Take care everyone!  
> Rachael x


	15. Home is where Mickey is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with our husbands five years later! The chapter is set over 2 days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to everyone who came along for this ride!! Especially to those that commented on each chapter and kept me motivated! I truly hope you enjoy this final chapter. I have loved writing this fic and am really proud of what I have created.

**_ 2040… 5 years later _ **

The first thing Mickey notices as his mind rouses from sleep is little fingers tickling his face. He keeps his eyes closed, trying to suppress a smile, but when muffled giggles break through the morning silence, he opens his eyes to find big blue ones staring straight back at him.

“I tickle you, Papa,” Milly says, fingers fluttering at his neck as her giggles get louder.

“You’re a cheeky little monkey, aren’t you?” He takes her hand and kisses her fingers. “Maybe I should eat these little fingers,” he says, opening his mouth and lunging for her hand. 

Milly squeals in delight then jumps onto the bed in a fit of laughter before leaning over, placing her hands over his mouth and whispering in his ear, “Papa, Daddy is still sound sleeping. Is he super-super-duper tired?”

Ian is indeed still sound asleep and plastered to his back, face nuzzled into his neck as always. “Daddy was up in the night with Alex.”

“Oh, no! Did Alex have bad dream, Papa?”

“I think his gums are sore cos he’s getting a new tooth.”

Milly sighs dramatically, “Poor Alex. Poor Daddy.” She’s three going on thirty-three and Mickey loves her and Alex so much it frightens him. He constantly stresses about them, they seem so fragile, the world filled with too many dangers. Mickey is _that_ Dad; trying to keep all the evil shit in the world from getting anywhere near his babies. Ian is more easy-going, and he envies him for it. That’s not to say Ian doesn’t worry or care, he continually watches over them, lavishing them with love. Mickey’s heart is full to overflowing these days—parenting side by side with Ian is something he didn’t know he needed until he had it. And they’re fucking good at it too.

Mickey brushes the hair off Milly’s forehead. “Daddy has to wake up soon cos it’s Lu’s graduation day and we can’t be late. Why don’t you tickle him awake too?”

Milly puts her index finger to her mouth, “Shhhhhh,” she tells him as she climbs on top of Ian. Mickey shuffles around wanting to see them, Ian stirring as soon as he moves. Milly yells, “tickle, tickle, tickle,” as her little hands dance over Ian’s neck.

“Is this the tickle monster?” Ian yells as he grabs her, sitting up and lifting her into the air. Milly shrieks, feigning fear, enthralled in their game. “I’m going to tickle the tickle monster and then eat her for breakfast.” Ian places her down on her back, tickling her as Milly kicks her legs and squeals with laughter.

“Help me, Papa! Save me!” she says, eyes wide with delight. Ian blows raspberries on her belly and she giggles even more. “Daddy, Daddy, stop!” Ian stops and smiles down at her. “No, don’t stop, don’t stop.” Ian starts up again, Milly giggling so much she hiccups.

Mickey loves watching them together. Ian treats her like a princess. He can’t believe Brad criticised Ian’s parenting—he’s so present in every moment and he would never abandon or neglect his children. Milly’s name is Mila Gallagher-Milkovich and biologically she is his. Her pitch-black hair and piercing blue eyes are a dead giveaway, although she is very tall for her age and has olive skin—qualities which they assume she inherited from her biological mother.

“Dada Dada. Pa Pa,” comes through the baby monitor.

“I’ll go,” he says, sitting up and grabbing Ian by the neck to kiss him. Little hands try to push their faces apart when their lips linger upon each other for too long.

“No, no, Papa. Daddy can kiss _me_ and you can kiss _me_. And you two can hug if _I_ say so. But _no_ kissing. Kay?”

They both laugh. Mila has been interrupting them when they show affection for a month or two now. It started just after her third birthday. Now they have to be sneaky around her; they may have been married five years, but the fire only grows stronger. For now, it appears Mila has inherited his possessive tendencies. 

“Milly, let’s go get started on breakfast,” Ian says standing up, Milly pouncing onto his back for a piggyback ride.

Mickey heads down the hall to Aleksandr’s room, finding their beautiful boy standing up in his crib, babbling away. He seems happy and Mickey hopes the pain from his tooth has subsided—they have a big day ahead of them. Alex is the sweetest, softest little boy and Mickey can’t get over how much he looks like Ian - with the exception of the freckles. Apparently, they will appear around three or four if he’s going to get them, and Mickey absolutely wants them. He picks up his son, placing him on his hip and kissing his forehead. “Hey, my beautiful boy. You feeling better?”

Alex smiles at him, huge green eyes twinkling back, “Pa, Pa, go go,” he says, pointing out the door. 

“We gotta change your diaper first little red.” Mickey places him down on the change table and gets to work. They only intended on having one child together but by the time Mila was 18 months old he wanted another. Ian had his little Mickey, but he didn’t have his little Ian. It didn’t take much effort to convince his husband. They had the money—his business had expanded exponentially with most of his clients now commercial. Mickey only works part-time now he’s in a position to employ a manager and enjoy fatherhood. Enjoy his family. Ian cut back on work too. After taking six months off when Mila was born, he only wanted to return part-time. 

Nothing is set in stone; Ian is welcome to work the hours he chooses; Mickey only wants him to be happy. They co-parent and support each other. Being married and parenting in their forties is perfect for them. Having matured and been through so much shit they know how fucking good they have it. And they value it. Are grateful for it.

Mickey finishes up with the diaper and sits Alex on his hip. His first birthday is next week, and he’s already taking a few tentative steps here and there. Both kids have the same biological mother. It was important to them to give the kids a biological tie to each other. Alex doesn’t have the olive skin, he’s very much Ian’s colouring, but both kids have the same nose and similar shaped faces. 

They head downstairs, walking into the kitchen to find Ian and Mila making pancakes together. Ian has Mila standing on a chair mixing the batter with a wooden spoon as he hovers close to prevent her from falling. 

“Dada, Dada,” Alex says, reaching out to Ian. Mickey passes Alex to him, sneaking in another kiss and a squeeze of his husband’s ass. 

“Good morning bubba Alex,” Ian says, peppering Alex’s face with kisses.

Lucinda bursts into the kitchen, “It’s here. It’s finally here. I can’t believe it.”

“Just enjoy it, pumpkin. You’ve worked hard,” Ian says, kissing his eldest on the forehead.

“Pops, is Yev definitely coming?” Lu asks, turning to face Mickey.

“He wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

After a lot of congestion around the kitchen - kids being passed around as they cook - they finally sit at the table for breakfast. Lucinda adores her little brother and sister and helps all the time. Over the last six years Mickey has come to think of Lucinda as his own flesh and blood, and he is certain she feels the same way. 

When he and Ian talk to people about their kids, they say they have four, because they do. Yev is now 25, and an engineer. Yev and Grace have stayed together, and Mickey knows Yev will propose soon. Part of him worries that they are too young to get married, but part of him is excited by the prospect of becoming a grandfather. Mickey now understands why Ian wanted the five-bedroom house—he was thinking of their future, their growing family. 

Ian tells Lucinda not to worry about helping with breakfast clean-up and to get ready. Lucinda is graduating from UChicago. She majored in psychology and one day hopes to specialise in helping LGBT+ youth. Needless to say, they couldn’t be prouder of her, and her desire to do something positive in the world. 

Mickey takes on clean-up duty and Ian heads upstairs to get the kids ready. He can hear Mila working her magic on Ian as they ascend the stairs. “Daddy, I want the blue one. Pleeeeease Daddy the blue one.” She’s talking about her dress. Ian wants her to wear the purple one and Mila wants to wear the blue one and they’ve been negotiating for three days.

“Milly, you can wear the blue one if you eat your vegtables every night next week. Deal?”

“Hmm…hmm…Daddy, how bout two nights?”

Mickey cracks up laughing. His daughter drives a hard bargain and is smart as a whip. He can’t hear them anymore, but he knows Mila will be at the graduation in her blue dress and she’ll eat her vegetables for precisely two nights. Mickey could tease Ian for letting a three-year-old manipulate him, but there’d be no point—Mila has them both wrapped around her little finger and he doesn’t mind one bit.

*****

**_GRADUATION…_ **

Ian can’t stop his mind from wandering back to when Lucinda was born as he watches her wait for her name to be called. It was one of the happiest days of his life, a child for him to love and to love him in return. After Brad put a stop to them ever having another child, it took him years to get over the disappointment. He never imagined that one day he would have four children to call his own. A big family like he always dreamed of. Ian couldn’t wait to be surrounded by grandkids in his old age.

Alex is in his lap, chewing happily on a rusk. Mila is on Mickey’s knee, wriggling around in her blue dress as she tries to see her big sister. Most of the Gallagher siblings are present with their partners and a few of the older cousins. Yev and Grace are here too. Mandy and David couldn’t make it, but they are coming next weekend for Alex’s first birthday and will give Lucinda her graduation present then. 

Ian looks across the hall and spots Brad, sitting alone. His ex-husband had married Chad only to have Chad walk out on him a year later. There is a tiny part of Ian that feels sorry for Brad. The man is almost 60 now, and while a successful lawyer, he doesn’t have much else in his life. Lucinda still sees him occasionally, but their relationship is strained. To be honest it surprises him to see Brad here, but he is happy he’s made the effort for Lucinda’s sake. 

“Sit with Yev for a minute, it’s nearly Lu’s turn,” Mickey whispers as he passes Mila to Yev. Mickey then gets his cell ready to video the moment. They decided in advance that Mickey would video so he could just watch Lucinda with no distractions. The moment they announce her name, and she walks across the stage to receive her diploma he is overcome with emotion. Tears spill over as he cheers for his baby girl, who is now all grown up. He couldn’t be prouder of her – she’s strong and smart and has a good heart. All the family are loud – too fucking loud – but Lucinda smiles and gives a little wave to them as she makes her way off stage. 

“Did you get it?” he asks Mickey.

“Sure did.” Mickey leans in close so no one else can hear, “You did a fucking good job, Gallagher. She wouldn’t be up there without you.”

He smiles at his husband, then connects their lips.

“Daddy and Papa nooooo kissing.”

They both laugh at their bossy daughter, holding hands instead.

After the ceremony, they wait patiently for Lucinda to come over and see them. They want photos of course, and the entire family want to congratulate her. Ian accepts that Lucinda wants to celebrate with her friends but letting go of a child is fucking hard. Soon she will move out of home and that’s something he can’t contemplate without feeling an incredible sense of loss. He wonders how he will ever cope when Mila and Alex leave the nest. Mickey tries to reassure him, reminding him they will have grandkids to look after by the time Mila and Alex go to college. 

Since Lucinda is headed out for the night with friends, they have planned a family BBQ tomorrow afternoon to celebrate. The day is forecast to be warm and their pool is heated to 86 degrees so they can swim too. When Lucinda finally comes over, she brings with her a young man. Ian looks at Mickey and Mickey looks back at him with understanding. Lucinda had one boyfriend in high school and one in her first year of college but no one serious yet. This is a big deal if she’s introducing someone.

Ian hugs and congratulates her, then watches her do the rounds with all the family before returning to him and Mickey. The young man stands back and let’s Lucinda do her thing, but he watches her every move. Ian can see he is smitten with his daughter. 

“Dad, Pops, I’d like you to meet Oliver. Oliver, these are my parents, Ian and Mickey.”

Oliver shakes hands with him, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ian,” and then Mickey, “and you too Mickey. Luci talks about you both all the time.”

“And how long have you two been friends?” he asks, trying to get a read on the curly haired blonde.

“A few months. I’m a psychology major too, graduate next year,” Oliver replies.

“Dad, I was wondering if I could invite Oliver over for the BBQ tomorrow,” Lucinda asks, eyes wide with excitement. Ian can see she really likes this one. He looks to Mickey, who is shuffling Alex from one hip to the other.

“Sounds good, doesn’t it Ian?” Mickey says, “Give us a chance to have a friendly chat with Oliver. See what sort of man he is.”

“Sure, Lu.” Ian turns to Oliver, “We’ll see you tomorrow then, Oliver.”

Lucinda whispers to Oliver and then he says his goodbye’s leaving the three of them alone. 

“You two! Don’t give him a hard time, he’s really nice when you get to know him,” Lucinda says, frown on her face.

“What can you expect when you’ve been friends for months and we haven’t met him yet?” Ian asks, eyebrows up in his hairline.

“Lu Lu, I’m tired,” Mila says to her sister, arms reaching up.

Lucinda picks Mila up as she continues talking, “Well I wasn’t sure. I wanted to graduate first. He’s been asking me out for months, but I always say no. But today I said yes, so that’s why I want him to come tomorrow. It matters to me that you both like him.” Lucinda is looking back and forth from him to Mickey waiting for a response.

“Okay, we’ll be nice. Mick, you’ll be nice tomorrow, won’t you?” Ian asks, looking at his husband.

“I’ll be nice but I’m going to let him know I’ll break his fucking kneecaps if he hurts you.”

They all burst out laughing at once. 

“Okay fair deal. Love you Pops, love you Dad,” Lucinda steps forward and kisses them both on the cheek. 

“We love you too. Now let’s get some photos so you can head off with your friends.”

*****

Mickey doesn’t quite know how they’ve accomplished it but both kids are going to bed at 8pm. They each take one child but swap every day, so they get equal time with both kids. Once the kids are asleep, they either cuddle on the sofa and watch TV or a movie, or they head straight to bed for sex. The kids sleep soundly until at least midnight so they know they can get wrapped up in each other with little risk of getting caught. 

After the emotions of graduation, they have retired to bed. Mickey is lying in Ian’s arms, head on his husband’s chest as he runs his fingers through ginger hair.

“What was your first impression of Oliver?” Ian asks.

“He seemed okay, but I’ve learnt over the years that first impressions aren’t always accurate. Sometimes people take a while to reveal their true colours.”

Ian is stroking up and down Mickey’s arm. “Ain’t that the fucking truth. I can see she likes him, but he seems more smitten than her. I think that’s better than the other way around.”

Mickey contemplates what Ian has said. There’s no doubt in his mind most relationships have a level of imbalance – the less ‘in love’ partner carrying more power. When they were first together Mickey held that power and then when Ian returned from the army, Ian held it. He likes to think their marriage is solid because there is a greater sense of equality between them now. They both love hard, without reservation, holding nothing back. It’s ride or die and he feels it deep in his gut, giving him the security he always wanted, and needed, from Ian. “Until she knows who he really is, then yes, I agree it’s better. But she hasn’t introduced us to anyone in a long time so I’m guessing she’s more interested than she’s letting on.”

“Mick, I’m gonna fucking grill him tomorrow. If he can’t handle it, then he’s not good enough for her.”

Mickey lifts up onto one elbow so he can look at his husband stressing out. “Ian, I’m all for giving the kid a hard time but remember Lu’s got her head on straight. And she’s bringing him home for our approval. That says a fucking lot about how mature she is. She grew up seeing a bad relationship and now a good one and she’s probably learnt from that, along with her psychology shit.”

“Yeah Mick, you’re right. Still think of her as my little girl though.”

Mickey leans forward and kisses Ian gently. “And you always will. Thinking of little girls, did you remember to submit Milly’s pre-k enrolment? That fancy ass school is hard to get into, we don’t want to miss out on a place for her.” Mickey resettles back onto Ian’s chest.

“Submitted it on Thursday. But remind me to order Alex’s cake on Monday, it slipped my mind with all the graduation stuff. Can’t believe he’s turning one.”

“It’s going fast. Too fucking fast. He’ll be running around soon.”

“You’re not getting clucky again, are you?” Ian asks, the smile clear in his voice.

“No, it’s just he’s not a baby anymore. He’s becoming a little boy. And, you know, that part’s over now and it ain’t ever coming back.” Mickey knows he sounds like a soft bitch but he’s okay with it. Being a parent the second time around with Ian has softened him in more ways than he can count.

“Mick, lie on top of me,” Ian murmurs softly. Mickey rolls onto his husband and is rewarded with hands through his hair and a tender kiss. “If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in this life it’s to value every moment you have with the people you love. So, while our babies are asleep, I’m gonna enjoy you, if that’s okay?”

Mickey smiles down at Ian; his husband’s eyes teasing and full of affection. God, he loves him so much. “Get to it then.”

Ian rolls them, then settles between Mickey’s legs, kissing him slow and deep. He slides his hands down Ian’s back and grabs his ass, encouraging his husband to grind against him. While they’ve had periods of time over the last three years where they couldn’t have as much sex as they would have liked, they have always kept the fire alive. Ian’s touch still sets him ablaze; heat rising to his skin, his heart picking up speed as his excitement escalates.

They both still crave the thrill of fucking each other senseless. Mickey loves being manhandled - whether it’s being thrown up against a wall or bent forcefully over his work desk – with Ian thrusting into him hard and fast as if his life depends on it. But more and more often they yearn for a deeper connection, making love for hours on end. When he was younger, he would have thought that sounded boring as fuck, but it’s far from it. The more their love grows, the richer their bond becomes, the better it gets. Mickey feels Ian’s love pouring into him, his orgasms now longer and more intense than he experienced in his younger years.

Ian kisses his way down Mickey’s body, then slides a finger inside him as his mouth descends languidly down his cock. Other than Ian being inside him, nothing drives him crazier than being sucked him off while fingers rub at his prostate. Rocking up into Ian’s mouth, then down onto those fingers, he lets out a series of moans. He fists at Ian’s hair then strokes down his cheek, wanting to feel where their bodies are connected. Over the years he’s let himself explore more sexually, Ian always encouraging and open minded.

He’s found he enjoys fingering and rimming Ian and occasionally they switch it up and he tops too. They trust each other, they role play, they continue to dabble in light BDSM and have an array of sex toys. But tonight, it’s simple, it’s making love and he couldn’t be happier. 

Ian pulls off and Mickey lifts onto his elbows seeking his husband’s lips again. As he is rewarded with Ian’s warm tongue in his mouth, he reaches down to feel Ian’s fingers – now two – scissoring him open. Ian kisses down his neck then up to nibble on his ear. “Hmm…I know what you want…do it,” Ian whispers, voice deep with longing. He pushes one finger inside himself, adding to Ian’s two, and they slide in and out together. “Fuck, Mickey,” Ian exclaims before biting down and sucking hard on his neck. He’s not sure why he loves it so much, but he thinks it’s about knowing what Ian is feeling, experiencing, and this sense of oneness that washes him.

When he edges close to orgasm, he pushes Ian down onto his back and climbs on top, making sure Ian’s leaking cock is nestled between his bum cheeks where he can tease them both. Hands pressed to Ian’s chest he leans over and connects their lips, sighing when his husband latches onto his bottom lip just as he did when they were boys. “Love you,” he whispers against Ian’s lips before he begins his descent, stopping to lick at hard nipples; lavishing attention on one before moving to the other. 

Mickey reaches his destination when he is sitting between Ian’s leg and lapping up Ian’s precum with his tongue. He watches Ian, watching him, Ian moaning and gently pushing his pelvis up looking for more. Mickey gives it to him, sinking down over the thick, long cock he loves. Ian reaches for him and they join hands, Ian squeezing tighter and tighter as the pleasure builds.

“Mickey come here,” Ian says, already pulling him back up. He lays his body over Ian’s, their kisses getting more heated, more desperate by the second. Ian fumbles around, trying to reach for the lube without disconnecting them and he can’t help but smile into the kiss. God how he wishes they didn’t need lube. He knows the moment Ian’s got his hands on it because he finds himself on his back, Ian sitting up between his legs to lube up.

Holding onto his legs just below his knees, Mickey pulls his legs towards his chest, open, ready for his beautiful husband to enter him. “So sexy Mick,” Ian moans as he presses in, Mickey’s senses exploding, an all-consuming fever spreading like wildfire throughout his body. Ian lowers down over him, and Mickey wraps his arms and legs around him, holding him close. The world disappears as they move against each other. Just the two of them in perfect sync. Pure bliss…

**_THE FAMILY BBQ…_ **

Ian gets started on the BBQ now everyone has arrived. Lip has come alone with his kids, he and Tami going through a nasty divorce, Fiona with her second husband, Brett, Debbie is here with her wife, Jacqui and their two kids, Carl and his wife Jessica and their brood of five—four boys and only one girl, and Liam with his wife Charlotte and their one son. Yev and Grace are of course present, and Oliver has turned up but most likely wishing he hadn’t since he’s getting grilled by everyone. 

Mickey had got the ball rolling until Lucinda dragged Oliver away to meet Yev. Ian is yet to have his turn, but he will—straight after lunch. For now, he’s just observing, gathering intel you might say. Lip hands him a beer once all the meat is on the grill. “You doing okay?” he asks, studying his brother’s face.

“Fucking nightmare. Just glad the kids are grown up, would have lost my shit if we were fighting over custody too.”

Ian is worried for his brother; Lip had bent over backwards for years to keep Tami happy only for her to up and leave him for someone else. But he knew as well as anyone that if someone was done, they were done. No point in fighting it. “I know it’s fucking hard, but you’ve got to let it go. Maybe there’s someone better out there for you. Someone who will treat you with the respect you deserve.”

Lip chugs back on his beer. “Yeah, maybe. You and Mickey seem to have hit the jackpot. Never would’ve thought I’d see you two married with kids, wealthy and settled. But you always were crazy for him.”

Ian smiles, looking across the yard to where his husband is applying bucket loads of sunscreen to Alex’s chubby little face. Mickey looks up, as if he could sense Ian was thinking of him, watching him. That smile he loves spreads across his husband’s face, then Mickey yells out, “Hey, don’t overcook my steak, Gallagher.”

Ian flips him the bird, causing Mickey to throw his head back with laughter.

“Lip, go enjoy yourself. I’ve got this covered here.” Lip pats him on the back and heads over to chat with Fiona and Brett.

It’s the perfect day. He feels a warmth spread across his chest as he looks at his family. Yev and Grace are sitting on the edge of the pool, gazing at each other like lovesick puppies, Lucinda is pushing Mila around in her little boat in the pool—both of his girls giggling loudly, and Mickey is carrying Alex carefully into the pool. Alex’s legs kicking madly once the water touches his legs and he squeals with delight. Mickey laughs then lifts him up and down in and out of the water, Alex’s face beaming with the thrill of it.

“Papa, me too me too!” Mila shouts, always wanting to be the centre of attention.

Mickey looks across at him again and he mouths ‘I love you.’ His husband still takes his breath away, just like he did almost thirty years ago. The sparkling blue eyes and full lips, the smile, and the swagger. Mickey mouths back, ‘love you too’ before passing Alex to Lucinda and pulling Mila into his arms to give her a turn. 

He spends a lot of time wondering how he ended up here. In this life. On paper it looks fucking perfect, and it is. A loving husband of five years, four beautiful children, a five-bedroom house with a pool, two nice cars and annual overseas holidays. He has everything. Because he has love. Because he has Mickey. And he’s fucking grateful for every damn day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Bonus points if you have a good memory and understand the significance of the last paragraph!
> 
> ** I had fun in this chapter playing around with Mila's "Electra" complex and how that might play out with 2 dads!!!
> 
> ** Please leave me a final comment - that would be very much appreciated!! And kudos if you enjoyed it!
> 
> ** One shot coming up soon! A college sports alternate meeting. Plus a new multi-chapter fic which is an enemies to lovers - will be fun and sexy. Please user subscribe if you like my work.
> 
> Take care everyone!  
> Rach  
> Twitter @dancelovermk


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